


BMFM: The TOM Tangents

by StarlitSky



Series: Follow Me Back Home [4]
Category: Biker Mice From Mars
Genre: 90s Series, Continuation, Drama, Family, Friendship, Gen, Humor, One-Shots, Romance, Sequel, Side Stories
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-02
Updated: 2013-04-05
Packaged: 2017-11-23 08:45:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 68,555
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/620244
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StarlitSky/pseuds/StarlitSky
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A second series of one-shots following the events of Together On Mars. Relax&Enjoy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Two Hearts Become One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A few months have passed since the battle and mouse territory has been cleaned up, and everything and everyone has settled comfortably into place again. Which means that the time for a very special event has finally arrived. Rated G.

Modo couldn't have asked for a more perfect day. He awoke from a restless night to find the early morning sky dawning bright and clear, the air he breathed in as he stepped outside to greet the day comfortably warm and subtly perfumed with scents from the gardens thriving nearby. Things looked even better than they did a couple of months ago--and things looked infinitely better than they did during the time in between, when they were still cleaning up after the almost day-long battle with the rats and sand raiders.

Looking at everything now, you'd never suspect that homes had been scorched, or that patches of ground had been burnt to ash. Paths and streets wove between lush sections of grass and flowers, gardens growing outside homes were in full bloom, and fragrant herbs flourished over the rims of hanging pots. They weren't want for anything when it came to plants and vegetation, and their water supply had grown to the point where they were tentatively starting to use it for recreation, with things like small fountains popping up in parks, complete with tiny fish swimming in the basin.

He couldn't name a single thing that would make life better around here. As for _his_ life, well...he didn't think it could possibly improve, but in just a few short hours he supposed he would be enhancing it.

When he'd finally built up the courage to ask Ashlin to marry him, proposing had actually been the easy part. Planning their wedding was another story; they discussed it for weeks before finally deciding where they should hold the ceremony. His first idea was for them to get married close to home--maybe out in the field by the garage. That way there'd be plenty of room for his bros and all of their friends, and they could go straight to Conrad's to party afterward.

Ashlin agreed that she wanted to have an outdoor wedding, though she hesitated at the idea of having it so close to home. She didn't state any specific reason...but he could figure out what was bothering her on his own. Despite how widespread acceptance of her was becoming, there were still mice who didn't fully trust her, or her rat kin--who would naturally be joining them as well. She didn't feel comfortable with the unwanted attention they might end up attracting.

Holding the ceremony in her father's territory was out of the question, since Nitro and those like him never so much as gave the vaguest hint of where their real homes were. Ashlin suggested that they go out to one of the places they used only temporarily, but Nitro pointed out that if they did, they'd likely be in the middle of nowhere. So they decided...why not? Out in the middle of the wide, open desert was neutral territory. A place that didn't belong to either mice or rats...and they sure weren't going to go within sneezing distance of a sand raider outpost.

Once the location was chosen, the rest fell quickly into place. And now here it was; the morning of their wedding. Traditionally, the bride spent the night separate from her husband-to-be and in the morning was assisted with her gown and appearance by her mother, while the groom was assisted by and received last-minute advice from his father...but in situations where this particular arrangement wasn't possible, both parties chose someone else to fill these positions. So, Ashlin had spent last night at his mama's, and just a few minutes after Modo woke up his bros rode up to help him get ready.

Although between all the jokes and the breaks for celebratory bottles of root beer, it would probably have been quicker for him to get dressed by himself. Finally he was ready and rushing out the door, carefully groomed from head to toe and wearing a long, loose-fitting coat--so he wouldn't get his wedding clothes dusty during the ride out into the desert.

The spot they had chosen was right next to an oasis-like pool of water, one of many that now dotted the surrounding desert thanks to the generosity of Tamerin and her people. A small terrace had been built on the sand out of gold-colored bricks, each one of them intricately shaped as they interlocked together in a rectangular pattern. Rows of chairs were lined up, facing the end of the terrace where a small, narrow table that sat low to the ground had been placed out. The table was draped in a blue silk cloth, with a row of objects set along its board-like length. Matching blue silk cushions were placed near either end.

There were no symbolic walks down the aisle in Martian weddings. The bride and groom, escorted by their parents (or whoever had been appointed in their place) simply approached either end of the altar-like table together. When he and his bros rode up and parked their bikes alongside the others already lined up by the pool, Modo saw that everyone else was present and waiting. The family of the bride sat on one side while the family of the groom sat on the other, with friends interspersed between them. Nitro was sitting in the front row on the left side, watching his daughter with proud, loving eyes as she stood at the edge of the terrace.

Rimfire was sitting in the front on the right, with Bevra at his side--and Modo had to admit that he had been a little worried about what kind of outfit she was going to show up in today. To his relief, she was wearing a pretty satin gown with wide straps and a modest neckline, the full skirt reaching all the way down to her ankles. The soft material was colored a pale peach, with a contrasting orange-pink showing through the folds of the long skirt and matching orange-pink pumps on her feet. Her ruby-red hair was pulled back in an elegant twist and there was a delicate gold chain around her white throat, and Modo didn't think she could look prettier--or classier.

Her daughter was sitting on the left, next to Nitro, and like him her eyes were on Ashlin. Unlike her mother, Tamerin-ma'am was dressed in a snug camisole that was visible through the lace design of the long-sleeved deep blue shirt she was wearing over it, along with a pair of black boots and jeans. Her shoulder-length hair was down and she wasn't wearing any jewelry beyond the earrings and bracelet she wore every day. She looked lovely, but pretty casual for a wedding.

After hopping off their bikes his bros walked with him to the right side of the terrace, where they helped him out of his coat before escorting him the rest of the way, while his little mama, who was beaming like the sun, took Ashlin's hand and led her to the opposite end of the table. His mama had Ako crooked under her arm, and the little guy squirmed around so he could see as his 'grandmommy' scurried to a seat near Rimfire and sat down. After giving his shoulder a brotherly pat, his bros did the same. Throttle took his place beside his snow-skinned mate, while Vinnie parked himself next to Charley-ma'am, who had their curious-eyed son in her arms. Modo's own eye turned to and became glued to his bride, who flashed him a shy smile across the short distance between them.

Deciding on their wedding attire had been much easier than picking out a location; Ashlin wanted them both to wear what was traditionally worn by mice, while she honored the other half of her heritage with accessories used only in rat weddings. These included two gold bands on her slender wrists and a matching choker around her neck, along with two gold spiral shapes that were hooked around the base of her ears. Attached to the ends of the spirals were the corners of the filmy, transparent veil that was draped softly over her dark hair, which was styled in loose curls and waves.

The gown she had chosen was sleeveless, with soft straps that were as filmy as her veil positioned at a slight angle, like they were gently slipping off her shoulders. The cut of the gown was simple, with a snug bodice that had a low yet still modest neckline and was decorated in delicate glass beadwork, and a long, flowing skirt that brushed the ground. Her feet were hidden, but he knew she was wearing the traditional satin slippers, with more beadwork along the tops of her toes.

He was wearing the same kind of slippers--which he had to admit felt kind of strange, they were so light. Their soft texture matched the loose fit of his pants, which he wore with an equally loose tunic-style shirt. Having long sleeves felt almost as weird as not wearing boots, but it was part of the tradition. The ends of the sleeves tapered down to a snug cuff made of a rippled, bunchy material lined with gold threads, giving them a glossy sheen. The shirt's collar was designed in the same way, though it thankfully didn't fit snugly.

There were more elaborate designs they could have worn, but they had both agreed that they wanted to keep it simple. And what was more important than the design of the clothing itself was the color; when you were at this point, ready to vow to love and be with someone until the moment you died, there was no room for secrets. The colors they both wore revealed their personal history, both to each other as well as those in attendance.

Since those colors were significant to the individuals wearing them, a couple didn't necessarily match on their wedding day--though the two of them did, for the most part. Instead of powder blue (the color symbolizing virginity) they were both dressed in pearl gray. The pale brown sash around each of their waists showed that they had given their virginity to each other, while the gray signaled that neither of them had conceived a child yet--otherwise they would both be wearing scarlet.

But because he had adopted Ako, Modo thought it was appropriate to add the color of parenthood to his outfit, so he'd made sure that the beadwork on his slippers as well as the front of his shirt was red. Even though she would soon be Ako's adopted mother, Ashlin was technically childless, so her beadwork was clear.

Looking at her now, standing just a handful of feet away from him, another thing was clear: she was the most beautiful bride a mouse could ever ask for. As if sensing his affection, her cheeks turned a lovely shade of pink as she lowered her eyes, while Modo drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly, his heart aching with love.

Standing to Modo's left was a cheerful cleric dressed in his wedding ceremony finery, and he approached the table with a welcoming smile as he faced the seated onlookers. "Dear family and friends," he began, "we have been brought together on this beautiful morning to celebrate the oldest and most joyous of traditions: the union of two hearts."

As he spoke, he gestured to the bride and groom before clasping his hands, which was the signal for both of them to take their place for the first part of the ceremony, and simultaneously they knelt on the satin cushions placed at either end of the table. "In these sometimes difficult lives we lead," the cleric went on, "one of the greatest joys we can ever find is the chance to share that life with another. When someone who loves you is at your side, times of sorrow become easier to bear and times of happiness become even sweeter. This unity is a gift, but it is also a solemn responsibility; it will be a duty for you both to care for and cherish each other through all things, be it joy, pain, or hardship."

As he listened, Modo gave a subconscious nod of his head, the vow to treasure and protect his bride for the rest of his life already burning in his heart. His gaze never left her face, and her eyes watched him earnestly in return. After pausing briefly, the cleric said, "When joined together, both your lives will acquire new purpose. And at this time you are asked to share with each other the wishes and desires you hold in your hearts, symbolizing what you will strive to bring to each other during your life together."

This was the part of the ceremony Modo was both looking forward to and worrying about the most. Finally tearing his gaze from Ashlin's lovely face, he looked down at the table in front of him, where matching sets of three special items were set out for each of them; a tiny pen, a square white slab, and a silver goblet. Ashlin had already grabbed her pen and started writing, but even though he had been practicing for days, Modo still had a little trouble getting a good grip on the silly thing. But he couldn't ask for something bigger to accommodate his large hand, since writing small was a must.

The white slab was made out of sugar, and the pen wrote in black food coloring. As the tradition went, they were supposed to write out everything they wanted the other to have, from others as well as each other, and what they wanted to share in together. There wasn't room for anything elaborate, so you had to sum it up in single words, from top to bottom. Ashlin was finished in only a few minutes and then waited patiently, her smile loving as she watched him, while Modo worked his way tediously to the end.

Painstakingly, he wrote: love, happiness, compassion, understanding, respect, peace, comfort, safety, stability, children.

When he was finally finished, he set the pen aside with a quiet breath of relief, then carefully picked up the hunk of sugar and passed it to his bride, who passed her wishes for him in return. Modo looked down at what she had written and couldn't help but laugh softly, because his slab read: love, happiness, peace, safety, fun, adventure, spontaneity, understanding, sympathy, children.

A grin spread across Ashlin's face as she read hers, and her eyes danced as she took her fragile slab and carefully crushed it between her fingers, letting the granules fall into her goblet. Modo did the same, then gripped the stem and swirled the goblet's contents--a mouthful or so of wine--around for a moment, letting the sugar dissolve. The sugar was sweet, while the wine was dark and bitter, symbolizing that they were to remain united during both good and bad times. His expression turning solemn, Modo lifted the goblet and brought it to his lips; Ashlin did the same.

After both goblets were drained, they put them down again, and the cleric, who had been standing by quietly during this time, resumed speaking. "With the presentation of your desires for each other, you may now exchange the physical symbols of your unity that you have chosen. These objects will serve as a reminder of your love for each other when you are apart as well as signify that love to others."

At this point he gestured that they stand, and as they both rose they carefully picked up their wedding tokens from their place on the table. They had discussed what they thought was best for them to wear for the rest of their lives--what they would be the least likely to break or lose. Modo couldn't see himself wearing a ring, since even when things were quiet he still found himself punching someone--either playfully or seriously--at least once a week, and Ashlin didn't want to wear one because she got her hands dirty all the time at work.

In the end they both agreed that earrings were probably best, but instead of hoops or studs that could potentially wind up being pulled out of their soft ear tissue, they chose silver cuffs that would snug securely around the strongest point; the very base, right next to the sides of their heads. The two of them moved around to the front of the table, where they stood a pace or two apart as they faced each other. "As you exchange these symbols of the love you both share, please speak out loud the promise you have come together today to make," the cleric told them.

Instead of opting to parrot the traditional vows generally spoken at this time, they had both chosen to write their own. Modo was eager to begin, because he had no idea what Ashlin was going to say, but he was also a little anxious because speaking eloquently wasn't exactly his thing, but with his bride's earring cupped in his hand, he cleared his throat and began.

"Ash, darlin', havin' you come into my life was the best thing that could ever happen to a guy like me. Bein' loved by you has made me happy in ways I could never have imagined. You make me laugh, and when we're together I'm not afraid to cry. Havin' you in my heart has made it whole, and I'm gonna spend every breath I take from now to the day I die keepin' you happy and safe. I love you more than I could ever say and I'd lay down my life to protect you."

He paused for an uneven breath, then reached over and placed the silver cuff on his bride's ear, while at the same time he whispered, "You are my breath, my heartbeat, my everything. I'm yours forever."

Ashlin blinked rapidly as he lowered his hands again, though she couldn't quite clear the moisture in her eyes. "Modo," she began in a soft voice, "having you to love and call my own has been the greatest gift I never dreamed I could have. You've made me so happy and helped me grow stronger than I ever thought possible. You taught me what it means to find my home, the place where I belong. Getting this far with you has been the most amazing journey, and I can't wait to see where the rest of our lives take us."

Modo had to lean down so Ashlin could reach his ear; with moisture still glistening in her dark eyes, she slid his ear cuff into place, and with a quiet sniffle, she echoed his words from a moment ago. "I'm yours forever."

His throat tightened, and then, even though it wasn't part of mouse tradition, Modo found himself reaching up to cup her face, so close to his own, and pressed a warm kiss to her lips. This brought an amused chuckle from several of those present, including his bride, though she sniffled again when he pulled away. He then went ahead and did what he was actually supposed to be doing at this point; took her hands in his and brought the tips of his antennas close enough to touch the tips of hers, letting all the love inside him, the hope, the longing ache to take care of her forever flood through her mind and into her heart.

Her own love and devotion swept into him, so powerful it took his breath away for a moment. With a soft smile, Ashlin tenderly dried his eye before they each took a step back from each other, severing the connection. Smiling, the cleric beckoned to Modo's mama, who happily hopped up from her seat and hurried over to Ashlin, placing Ako in her waiting arms.

Ashlin let out a quiet laugh at how thrilled the little guy looked to be included, and the cleric continued to smile as he asked her, "Do you promise to nurture and guide this child throughout his growing years and on into his adulthood, and to love him as if he were your own from this moment forward?"

With a smile overflowing with love, Ashlin looked down at the happy creature cuddled in her arms. "I will. Yes."

Ako beamed and curled up against the hollow of her throat. "My mommy," he said delightedly.

Ashlin laughed again and hugged him close, and Modo put his arms around them both, while the cleric said, "And with that, I proclaim that this union--and this family--is now complete. From this moment on, your lives are as one."

Everyone started cheering and getting up to congratulate them, but Modo clung to his new wife for a little longer before he was ready to let go--for now. Tamerin-ma'am reached them first, pulling Ashlin into a tight hug and kissing her cheek. She then turned and hugged Modo, pulling him forward with those strong hands of hers so she could kiss his cheek too. His bros came over to slap him on the back and swap more jokes and teasing wisecracks, and Nitro came up to shake his hand with a smile...although there was a clear look of fatherly warning present in his dark eyes. Modo gave him a solemn, wordless nod.

After a long round of hugs, congratulations and well-wishing, they all returned to their bikes and rode back into the city, where they trooped en masse into Conrad's, which was reserved for the wedding reception today.

Not that anyone who wanted to stop by and congratulate them wasn't welcome, and while they were all passing around refreshments and making toasts--with root beer, naturally--more of Nitro's crew seemed to mysteriously appear. Modo recognized a few of them, though as the morning wore on he saw more and more that he didn't know. Ashlin hugged everyone who showed up regardless--including Carbine, to the General's surprise.

"I can't stay," she said, as Ashlin sat down next to her new husband again, "but I wanted to at least stop in and say hi."

Despite not being able to stick around, Modo noticed that she had dressed up for the occasion and was wearing her nicest uniform. She stayed for only a few minutes, talking briefly with some of the others, then excused herself and headed for the door. As she was leaving, Modo spotted a figure he hadn't realized had joined them until now, standing with his arms folded and his back pressed against a support pillar. Nitro was standing beside him, one hand in his jeans pocket and the other holding a drink that was a lot stronger than root beer. His dark eyes watched Carbine as she went by, and when she was gone, he nudged Poison with a smirk. Poison grunted wordlessly in response and turned away, and like a shadow when the light was turned on, he vanished and didn't come back.

Modo's bros and their significant others were sitting at the table with him and Ashlin, and Throttle, who had also watched his ex leave, suddenly glanced over his shoulder at the table where Rimfire was sitting with Bevra-ma'am and casually said, "Your mother looks nice today."

Beside him, Tamerin-ma'am took a long sip from her glass, then plucked one of the pieces of fruit that were stuck to the rim and popped it into her mouth. "Uh-huh."

Throttle's eyes drifted over his mate's attire. "Did you hear me when I mentioned earlier that you should dress up today--and by dress up I mean wear a dress?"

"Yes. I just politely pretended not to."

"How come? I'd love to see you get dolled up for a change."

"I'd rather cut my hair even shorter."

" _Please_ don't."

Modo snickered and slid his arm around his bride, who settled against him with a sigh of contentment. Today couldn't have gone any better, and as he listened to and watched the others enjoying themselves, and watched as Ashlin cradled Ako lovingly in her arms, Modo couldn't wait to see what was in store for all of them tomorrow. Or the next day. Or the next.

Life was good.


	2. This Qualifies As Relaxing?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things are nice and quiet at home, so Tamerin and a few of the others decide to take a break and embark on an all-girl (?) shopping trip. Rated PG for a little (im)mature dialogue.

"So, this is an intergalactic shopping mall? Interesting."

Smirking, Tamerin turned to look at her mother, who was standing with her head tilted back as she gazed around with a bemused fascination that was almost childlike. They were in the middle of the entryway of what was supposedly the biggest shopping center in the galaxy, with hundreds of floors and thousands of stores packed full with every kind of item you could think of, and some you would never dream of.

Like all Imeerans, her mother was unaccustomed to the idea of money and buying things, but Tamerin had grown reasonably savvy in the subject from her many off-world missions plus all the months she had been employed at Second Chance. She had a paycheck like everyone else now, though she hadn't really spent any of her earnings yet. There wasn't a whole lot she needed or wanted, but today seemed like a good day to just relax and head out to have a little fun--mostly to treat her mother, who had reached the half-way point of her pregnancy.

While she was at it, she decided to bring Charley with too, and it hadn't taken her long to throw together a whole list of baby things she wanted. Like her mother, she was six months along on her pregnancy--but unlike her mother, she was more than half-way there. She was already nearing the end of what the young human called her second trimester and would soon be starting her third, and she only had about three months gestation left.

Imeeran pregnancies progressed in stages too, but they didn't go in three tidy blocks. The first four months saw the most development, followed by three months of not developing so much as growing larger. Then, though even after extensive studies it wasn't clear why, the baby would stop growing and only barely moved for almost two months. Scientists theorized that this was the time when mental abilities developed, presumably requiring so much energy it stalled other growth until this stage was finished. Then the baby would start growing rapidly again and become its most active, until the twelfth and final month where it grew stiller again...because by then it was fully developed and there wasn't much room anymore. Another couple of weeks and the mother would finally give birth.

So, despite the fact that both women had conceived mere days apart, Charley's belly was already noticeably rounded and full. She had put on a little extra weight to the rest of her too, but she didn't mind, pointing out that unlike her first pregnancy she didn't have to worry about keeping it a secret. Tamerin didn't think she had ever seen her look happier; there was a rosiness to her cheeks and a soft glow in her eyes, and she had been smiling almost constantly lately.

She looked particularly perky today, and as pretty as Tamerin had ever seen her. The mechanic's red-brown hair now brushed her shoulders and looked lovely as it framed her face, and instead of the clothes she usually wore to work she had on a pair of blue jeans (with a stretchy material worked into the denim fabric for comfort and ease of movement) and a pretty sleeveless blouse, with intricately crocheted straps and edging along the sweetheart neckline. The hem of the blouse hung down almost to her hips, baby doll-style--so it would cover the elastic panel at the front of her pants, Charley had joked earlier.

Over the blouse she had on a dark blue denim jacket with brass-colored buttons, and brown leather ankle boots were on her feet. She looked so pretty Vinnie had been reluctant to part with her earlier and tried to tag along, but his wife had swatted him away and insisted firmly that today was a 'girls-only' outing.

That had been the plan, but right before the three of them had been about to transport over here to the mall...

With a shake of her head, Tamerin looked over at the figure peering closely through a display window of an exotic pet store. "Remind me again why you wanted to tag along?"

Jayce straightened up and turned around. "Why not?" he asked seriously.

"You're not pregnant--or a girl," she hastily added, in case he pointed out that she wasn't expecting either.

"Hey, Dee didn't put our baby together by herself," her brother said. "And you know how she feels about traveling."

Of course she did. The little doctor had always disliked going far from home--especially if that distance was traveled via the transporter. The margin for error was so low it was almost non-existent--though that percentage increased if there was an equipment malfunction--but there was always that point-something chance that the trip could go awry and you wound up re-materializing in the middle of some unknown, hostile environment. Or re-materializing in the wrong order. Or not at all.

It had never been a chance Dee was willing to take.

"So, you're here to do expectant mommy shopping in her stead?"

Her sibling grinned at her. "You got it. Let's go look at diapers and junk."

Red jacket gleaming in the bright lights, he spun on his heel and marched up the center of the tiled floor, boots clumping. After exchanging amused glances, the three girls followed.

The main floor, which like any mall was wide and flanked with rows of stores and had many adjoining paths that led to even more stores, was teaming with a large variety of beings of all shapes and sizes, some of them traveling here all the way from the outer reaches of the solar system. Tamerin saw species she recognized and some she couldn't name, figures with two or more legs strolling in and out of stores, and tentacle-like arms pointing at shelves while bulbous eyes wobbled on stalks. Charley was as used to seeing unusual creatures as she was and looked at ease, while her mother was quietly gawking again.

Sneaking a glance at her, Tamerin smirked and said, "You look nice today, Mom. Very...normal."

Her pregnancy wasn't showing all that much yet and her small belly was all but hidden under the loose peach-colored blouse she was wearing. Per her usual style it was held up by tiny straps, leaving her lean arms bare, but instead of the skimpy shorts she was so fond of wearing, she had on a pleated denim skirt. Tamerin had no idea they even pleated denim, but it went nicely with the eggshell-colored hose she was wearing, and for shoes she had skipped the boots and grabbed a pair of plain black flats.

The clothes looked youthful all on their own, but she had also been wearing her hair longer than she used to, and the way it flowed behind her as she walked seemed to take another few years off her already young appearance. It gave Tamerin a funny twinge of protectiveness--especially when she thought about how her mother was more vulnerable right now than at any other time.

Unaware of her thoughts, her mother flashed a wry smirk as she tossed her hair. "Rimfire told me it's okay if I still dress like a stripper, as long as I only do it at home."

"And then he had to explain to you what a stripper is?" guessed Tamerin.

Her mother's snowy cheeks actually turned pink. "I'm still not sure if I completely understand," she muttered, with another toss of her hair. "Why would anyone want to take their clothes off for strangers?"

"Money," Charley said promptly. "Or some girls do it for the thrill."

Mom pulled a face. "I still don't see what anyone else would get out of it, if they don't even know the girl."

Tamerin had to hide a smile; as old and experienced in military matters as she was, her mother was still pretty naive about the behavior patterns of non-Imeeran males. "You forget, there are few--if any--races out there that bond as completely as we do. Generally even males who have mates can be turned on by other females just by looking at them."

Grinning a little, she gave her mother's modest outfit a quick look over. "Haven't you ever noticed how some of our mice neighbors quietly drool on themselves when you're wearing some of the, uh, smaller items in your wardrobe?"

"Sometimes. But I just thought it was because they're still single. Unmated Imeerans can get distracted by pretty faces too."

"Especially when those faces are nice and fuzzy," Charley put in slyly.

"Can't argue there," Tamerin agreed.

The two of them exchanged knowing grins as they turned a corner, heading toward a section of stores that sold home goods, while Mom lagged a pace or two behind as she frowned in thought. "But while I get how they can be turned on by watching someone undress," she went on, "I still don't get why they'd _want_ to be. It's not as if the girls will come touch them, or something."

"Some will," Charley noted.

"But usually they just go home and touch themselves," Tamerin added casually. "Most males are wired differently than ours, so they get to do that."

Jayce, who had been walking several feet ahead of them, suddenly paused and turned around. "What the heck are you three talking about?" he wondered.

"Just noting how other species, whether they're single or not, get turned on so easily," his sister told him.

The young general let out a laugh, taking a step backward as the three of them caught up. "Oh, I know--it happens even though I'm not single either. Here, watch this."

And he took another step back before turning to face the doorway of what looked like a bed and bath supply store, then proceeded to slip his jacket off and tug his shirt over his head, right in the middle of the mall. The group of girls coming out of the store, laden with shopping bags, let out shocked gasps and giggled behind their hands in embarrassment as the muscular Imeeran flexed for their benefit. Though it wasn't long before the embarrassment faded and they were awarding him with whistles and shouts of 'call me, hot stuff!'

Grinning, he faced the trio watching him mutely and put his shirt back on. "See?"

"Uh-huh," said Tamerin, her tone dry. "And what are you going to do if, after you get them excited like that, one of them runs up and latches onto you?"

Jayce turned a little blank as he grabbed his jacket. "I never thought of that. Guess I'd just have to say that I'm taken."

"After deliberately enticing them?" their mother said, her tone disapproving. "Sounds a little mean to me. Would _you_ like it if someone flashed something you'd want in front of your eyes only to tell you that you can't have it?"

The shadow-skinned male wrinkled his nose as he pulled his jacket back on. "Jeez, you're making me feel guilty now. I'm going to go find where they keep the cribs around here."

Fortunately, a big store selling baby goods was just up ahead...but it seemed like the second they stepped through the over-sized doorway, their little quartet evaporated. Charley wanted to head straight to the section that sold bedding and blankets, while Mom had other ideas, so the two split up and scurried off in opposite directions. Tamerin didn't quite catch where Jayce ran off to, but she soon found herself standing alone by a bin stuffed with rattles. "That's okay," she called after no one in particular, "I'll pay for everything when you get back."

Not that she really minded being left by herself right now. She had never experienced childbirth, but over the years she had taken care of numerous children during their earliest stages of life, and as she quietly roamed up and down the aisles, looking at all the brightly-colored items--some practical, some whimsical--she couldn't help but travel back to those days. She found herself remembering all the little ones she had temporarily kept at Stardust House, guiding Jayce through his teen years to adulthood, rearing Ashlin from infancy.

They were all special memories, but it was always the memories of the nineteen years she'd spent raising her sweet furry daughter that made her heart warm--and ache--the most.

Everyone had thought she had gone a little nutty when she first opened the orphanage, since it wasn't something that was really needed in their society. Their population still wasn't very large compared to most other civilizations, especially during that particular time when the war was at its peak. All of their children had grown by that point and none had been born in years, and while many had been left parentless back at the start of the war, there was no need for a facility for them to stay at between the time they lost their parents and when someone took them in, since in their close-knit society another family member or close friend would jump in almost immediately. Still, she had opened Stardust House stubbornly, the memory of Ashlin's treatment despite the fact she was only an innocent, helpless infant forever ingrained in her mind.

When she first brought her home, Tamerin had explained how she had been rejected by both sides of her parentage...but what she left out was the part where, right before she decided to raise the little angel herself, she had sat down with her cradled in her arms and cried over the injustice of it. It had made no sense to her at the time--not that she was sure she completely understood it now, even after all she had seen and heard since she had moved to Mars. To her, even the bad blood that existed between the different Martian races wasn't reason enough to treat such a sweet little creature the way that they had.

The brief time she spent trying to find a home for her was all she had needed to come to love Ashlin like she was her own, so after she dried her eyes the next step had been obvious. The idea of opening an orphanage had come to her later, even though no one thought it was necessary and the small building remained empty for years, but she went ahead with it anyway, because between the off world scout missions she continued to go on and the relentless gravitational pull of Malteria, you never knew what might happen.

It wasn't until a few years later that a ship carrying children crashed on the surface, and it wasn't until the craft that brought Michio, Ako, and the rest of them came were they unable to locate each of their home planets and find them new homes there. And after so many years of going childless, the same couples that had at first been unsure about the thought of adopting a different species were now ready to pounce at the idea.

Which, now that Tamerin thought about it, would present a different issue in the future. Mating with a non-Imeeran was another foreign concept that only she and her mother had been daring enough to attempt so far, but unless all of the adoptees gravitated strictly toward each other, it would only be a matter of time before her mother wasn't the only one facing the uncertainty of exactly how their genes were going to react when mixed with a non-Imeeran race.

As much as she loved children and had once pictured what it would be like to have her own, she was now glad that she didn't need to worry about the difficulties cross-breeding might cause anymore. Not to say that she didn't still, on occasion, get a sudden burst of remembrance of Ashlin's baby days that had her eyes tightening suspiciously and her heart stinging--like they did when she suddenly spotted a lace-adorned dress hanging on a rack of clothes she was drifting by. It was velvet and a different design, but the deep purple color was the exact same shade of the party dress she had bought for Ashlin specifically for her to wear on her first birthday. With a growing thickness in her throat, Tamerin paused to brush her fingertips over the soft fabric as memories from that day played in her mind.

She was glad when Charley found her a few seconds later, interrupting her thoughts and no doubt rescuing her from the embarrassment of crying in front of a bunch of strangers. Dodging around a scaly mother-to-be pushing a cart, the mechanic approached her with a knowing smile on her face. "Even if she and Modo aren't expecting yet, she could have joined us," she commented.

"I was going to ask her, but she's working at the base today."

It had come as no surprise when Ashlin had visited the recovering soldiers for weeks after the battle--but what _did_ surprise her was when Carbine decided that her nursing skills were worthy of a paycheck and hired her on as a medical assistant. She didn't cite any real reason for it other than they needed a few extra hands right now, but Tamerin knew that the active general had also done it so she could continue to keep a close eye on the small Martian. Tamerin had since gone back to liking her.

"Anything else in particular you still need to get?" she wondered, eyeing the rapidly filling basket hanging from Charley's arm.

"Consumables and things for newborns, mostly," the young human responded. "There's plenty of Vector's things from when he was older that we can still use, but I left most of the stuff from the first year or so of his life behind when we moved to Mars."

As Charley pulled out her shopping list and started scanning it, Mom suddenly reappeared, hurrying over to them toting a basket of her own. In her other hand she was carrying a stuffed toy, which was colored green and pink and had long fur, floppy ears, one big eye, and it rattled as she bounced it. "Isn't it cute?" she asked. "I have no idea what it is, but it's adorable."

Tamerin blinked at her a few times, her expression deadpan. "'Cute?' 'Adorable?' Do I know you?"

Her mother rolled her eyes and stuffed the silly toy into her basket. "Yes, daughter of mine, I'm your mother. Remember?"

She did, actually. She had to think back, but she could remember how her mother used to be--how they all used to be--before everything was changed by war. Tamerin had already been twenty by the time Jayce came along, but that hadn't stopped her from goofing around with him when he was small--and more often than not their mother had joined their games. To say nothing of her own childhood, which was full of memories of her mother acting like a big kid.

That kind of behavior had vanished the day the shape-shifters came, but now that the General was retired and gone, it looked like the fun-loving mommy was slowly but surely returning. This new addition was one lucky kid.

"Should we look at the food section next?" the fiery-haired Imeeran asked as she checked her own list. "I know it's too early to start shopping for actual meals, but there's no harm in planning ahead and stocking up on food containers."

Charley put her list away with a smirk. "I know exactly what you mean. And I learned my lesson the last time; absolutely no glass containers whatsoever. They only get broken."

"Vector is that rough with them?" Mom wondered.

"No, but his daddy is another story."

The two of them walked away together, chattering on about mom stuff, but this time it was by choice that Tamerin didn't tag along. Picking out baby things was a very personal decision, which was something she had learned partly from experience, so she left the mothers-to-be alone to do their thing and wandered the aisles by herself again.

A little while later she found herself in the crib section, where an expectant couple who looked like they were of an amphibious race were looking at a bassinet that could hold water. Tamerin paused next to a small crib that had her brother's name written all over it--black frame with a red mattress inside--just as her ears picked up a strange squeaking sound coming from somewhere behind her. It rapidly drew closer, and she turned around to see the one who had just entered her thoughts...dragging a baby toy along behind him.

It was sort of like a train, only instead of cars it looked like five tree stumps linked together and rolling on pink wheels. Each one grew smaller down the line, and as it was pulled along by the string attached to the front stump, one by one a blue bug-creature would pop out of the top with a cheerful squeak. Jayce paused when he saw her and flashed a crooked grin, while his sister stared at him blankly. "What the heck are you doing?"

"Shopping for cribs," her brother replied casually.

"And the bugs?"

He grinned again. "They're helping me."

Peering over her shoulder, his garnet eyes lit up when he spotted the crib that matched his outfit. "Ooh--that one kicks ass," he noted brightly.

"You know you've entered my brother's world when a baby crib needs to kick ass."

Jayce merely laughed at her dry observation and stepped around her--still dragging the baby toy behind him. "It's not for me, so I'm looking for something a little more subtle. Like that one over there."

Tamerin looked where he was pointing and saw a sleek-looking crib with a metal frame, made out of a type of polished gray metal that gleamed with a dark undertone, like gunmetal. "Dare I ask what kind of blankets you're looking into?" she asked.

"I'm thinking black or dark gray. Depends on whose skin he inherits."

"Or you could just do the logical thing," his sister added.

"You're right. I better get both, just to be safe."

"I meant you could pick a normal baby color," Tamerin said with a roll of her eyes. "You'll never see me using anything other than white, pink, blue, green, yellow, or lavender--and only in pastels."

Her brother laughed like she'd just said something funny. "Careful, someone's going to notice that you're a girl."

"That's a risk I'm just going to have to take."

But Jayce seemed convinced that the color scheme he'd picked out for her future niece or nephew was perfect for either gender, and aside from the crib he grabbed a handful of outfits, a stroller, and a rattle with a bow around the handle, none of which ventured to a point in the color spectrum where they could be called bright. If it wasn't for the cheerful rainbow of colors the toys he kept grabbing made, Tamerin would have worried this poor kid was going to wind up stuck with a sadly monochrome existence.

Jayce ended up going a little overboard and couldn't carry everything he brought to the checkout counter out by hand, so the clerk offered to keep everything in the back for him until he was done looking around the rest of the mall as well as supply him with something to help ferry all of it out of the store with.

When her mother and Charley caught up to them they decided to do the same thing, while Tamerin pulled out her wallet and paid for everything. And to think when she left this morning she had thought that taking three-quarters of all she had earned so far was being overly cautious.

"I think we can afford to stop at one other place," she noted as she put away what little cash she had left and followed the other three out of the store. "And maybe grab lunch later."

"I'm not hungry yet," Charley responded, rubbing a hand over her belly, "but I could use a pit stop."

"Me too," added Mom.

"Me three," put in Jayce, "and then I want to check out the nearest bike supply shop."

"Good idea--you need to reaffirm your manliness," his sister teased.

The active general rolled his eyes as they neared the restrooms. "Whatever. I'm going to go take a dump."

"Thanks for sharing," said Mom.

"You sure you don't want to join us over here?" Charley asked slyly as he separated from the trio of girls. "For guys on my planet, what women do in the bathroom is one of life's biggest mysteries."

Jayce paused outside the men's room door and gave her a funny look. "Well, it sure isn't a mystery where I'm from. When you're in the military, you share everything with your fellow officers, and that includes your personal space. I've been showering with females since I was fourteen."

He disappeared into the men's room, while Charley lifted her eyebrows onto her furrowed brow. "Is he serious?"

"Quite," Mom said mildly. "We aren't as visual as other races, so being around each other when we're naked--with a little self-control--can be ignored, especially if you've a bonded mate. We train our recruits to get used to being kept in close quarters, in case while out in the field they find themselves in a situation where decorum has to be tossed out the window, like ripping your fellow soldier's clothes off to treat a wound, or having no choice except to relieve yourself in a small, enclosed area with everyone, or--"

"I get it," said Charley, who still had a look of disbelief on her face. "But what about a female who hasn't mated? I can't imagine letting her shower around unmated males when she's fertile would be a very good idea."

"There's always a separate shower for that," the ex-general told her. "We're disciplined, not stupid."

The three of them headed into the lady's room--which was huge, splitting into a tuning fork-shape on the other side of the door, with both the left and right sections housing four long rows of stalls; two on each side of the room, with a large set of sinks in between them.

Tamerin didn't really have to go all that much, but if they were going to do more shopping she figured she may as well empty her tank while she was here, so she followed after her mother and Charley as they headed to the right--the latter of the two scurrying like a rabbit into the nearest stall. Having someone bouncing around on top of your bladder all day had to be tough, Tamerin thought. She was finished first and went to wait by the sinks for the mothers-to-be, and then waited a little more while they both took a minute to smooth their hair and straighten their clothes.

That was the nice thing about keeping her own hair shortened--very little maintenance. She liked it this way and was determined to leave it at no longer than a little below her shoulders, even though Throttle kept bugging her to grow it out again. She thought it was a fair trade since she had decided not to remove the wing tattoo from her back after he all but begged her to keep it, even though she'd gotten tired of it months ago--although he'd assured her that he was perfectly okay with it if she decided to get more ink.

She'd never gotten two tattoos at once before and would have to think about that--and her mother, she noticed with a groan, should have thought a little harder about which part of her outfit to check before leaving the restroom. "Mo- _om_ ," she moaned in exasperation.

"What now?" her mother demanded, equally exasperated--before she let out a yelp of surprise as Tamerin grabbed the hem of her denim skirt and yanked it free from the waistband of her hose. She at least had the mind to look embarrassed as she edged to the side and made sure everything was smoothed safely in place again. Good thing the alcove outside the door was empty right now.

"Just add that to the list of reasons why I never wear skirts," Tamerin noted crisply.

Their little shopping expedition resumed, and her mother got over her embarrassment in a hurry, rolling her eyes while they walked back into the main part of the mall. "There's a time and a place for everything," she told her, in her most motherly tone. "And by that I mean the outfit you wore to Ashlin and Modo's wedding was completely inappropriate."

"I wouldn't go that far," Charley put in casually. "The lace top was a nice touch. The pants, on the other hand..."

The two redheads exchanged a distinctly conspiratorial look. Tamerin paused and looked back over her shoulder at the restrooms, hoping to see some sign of Jayce--and a means of escape--but her brother was long gone. Probably basking in a room full of leather and chrome that very minute.

Clearly, her mother had other plans, and with a wicked grin she clamped her shoulders in an iron grip and started pushing her. "Come on," she ordered, "we're going dress shopping."

Tamerin whimpered a protest, but there was no stopping her mother when she got an idea in her head. She continued to push her along, dodging around throngs of other shoppers and pausing a couple of times, but she apparently had a very specific kind of store in mind, because she would push her on again a second later.

"Hey, mister," her daughter called to a three-eyed shopper as the former General shoved her into a capsule-like elevator next to a towering escalator, "can you help me? I'm being taken up to be tortured."

The fellow merely scratched his bald head as her mother laughed and pushed her to the back of the elevator. She didn't get any sympathy from Charley, who chuckled as she scurried in after them. The elevator was made out of a transparent material, and Tamerin watched as they all but flew up from the floor, soaring along a clear tube that led to higher and higher levels of the ginormous building--a lot like the lifts in the Undercity on Malteria.

When they reached one of the highest floors of the mall, her mother pushed her out of the elevator and onto a level which from the looks of it housed clothing stores almost exclusively. "How'd you know where to go, anyway?" she wondered, as she finally edged away from her mother's grasp and walked on her own for a change.

"There are maps everywhere," Mom pointed out slyly.

The floor they were on was especially busy, populated almost completely by females. Some were with tired-looking male companions, others were all but dragging fussy children with them. Charley, who was carrying a small bag in one hand and massaging her belly with the other, suddenly stopped outside a large, flashy-looking store, all silver and lace and flowing white material. Set on the other side of the massive front window were mannequins dressed in elaborate wedding gowns, surrounded by cardboard wedding cakes and other decorations. With a soft smile, she reached up to touch the meteor fragment that always hung from a chain around her neck, caressing it between her fingertips.

Mom joined her, with a look on her face that said she wasn't quite sure what to make of the gaudy gowns, while Charley turned to her with another smile. "Do Imeerans have wedding ceremonies?" she asked.

Tamerin's mother shook her head, her eyes still on the gowns. "We've studied some of the wedding traditions from other planets, but we never bothered to adopt any ourselves. Weddings solidify a union verbally--not to mention legally. We don't have much paperwork on Malteria, and the bond that forms when our bodies join together is stronger than any word we could say, so we never felt that marriage ceremonies were necessary for us."

"So, you could sort of say the first time an Imeeran couple makes love, they're making a vow to each other with their very flesh."

"Basically. Yes."

Charley nodded in understanding...while Tamerin found herself reaching for the bracelet around her right wrist, her fingers closing around the spiked shape dangling from the chain. A quiet throb of longing was forming in her heart as her mind thought back on the night her own union began--crazy as she knew it was to start it the way she did. It was completely crazy to give herself to someone who had no idea what that night really meant for her, someone she hadn't even been sure at the time would ever love her.

And yet she'd done it anyway, and without hesitation. She could say that she had thrown out all caution because at the time she wasn't sure she would be alive for much longer--which was true enough, now that she thought about it--but that wasn't the case at all. Her only motivation was how desperately she had come to love him, and how badly she wanted him to be hers. He had been so hurt and she had wanted more than anything to make him happy--to be the one to make him happy. And so she had held onto him in every way she could, even as she knew that he could be gone in the morning.

For an Imeeran, it was considerably abnormal behavior. Physical wounds were fleeting and generally shrugged off, but emotional pain left far deeper scars and could potentially last forever, so while it was typical for Imeerans to fall in love quickly, it was definitely atypical to willingly and knowingly enter any given situation where you knew you could wind up with your heart ripped out.

For a little while it had felt like hers had been...but then Throttle came back to her and everything was all right again. And as she continued to finger her bracelet, she wished that he was here with her now--or better yet, that she was back home and cuddled safely in his arms instead of about to be badgered into wearing a dress by her demanding mother.

As if on cue, her mother turned around--and surveyed her expression with a pert frown. "Uh-oh, I know that look. Quick, let's start with the torture and maybe she'll forget about missing her snugglebear."

Before Tamerin could come up with a remark about what Throttle would think of being called a 'snugglebear,' her mother grabbed her arm and steered her into a boutique just down the way from the bridal shop. The moment the three of them set foot across the threshold, Tamerin knew it was a swanky, expensive place; plush carpet beneath her feet, a dark velvet material lining the walls, soft lighting--even a runway-like platform outside the changing rooms where shoppers could model their outfits.

"If you insist on shopping here," Tamerin commented dryly, "we can forget about lunch."

"So we'll teleport home and eat for free," her mother responded, unconcerned. Charley had already gone farther inside, making a beeline for a circular rack covered strictly in slinky black dresses. They didn't strike her as Charley's style...but as the pretty mechanic lifted one from the group to take a closer look, she realized that they weren't dresses, but sensuous lingerie. "Trying to see how fast you can get pregnant again after giving birth?" she wondered, eyeing the barely-there silk-and-lace number Charley was holding.

She let out an embarrassed laugh and hastily put it back. "Just looking," she said, as a humanoid saleswoman approached the three of them, with model-worthy posture.

After looking Charley over with a puzzled frown, she said, "I'm sorry, but we don't carry maternity clothes."

Tamerin felt her mother nudge her forward, and heard the smirk in her voice as she said, "We're looking for a special gown for my daughter here. Something good and sexy that'll make her significant other drool all over himself when he sees her in it."

Throttle see her in a dress? _Hell_ no.

She thought the brazen suggestion would make the saleswoman wrinkle her delicate nose in distaste, but instead she looked amused as she turned and beckoned them to a back corner of the store. "I think I know just the collection," she said.

And she started taking floor-length gowns and short dresses from their shiny hangers and passing them to the fiery-haired female, who in turn passed them to her whimpering daughter. "What am I supposed to do in one of these things?" Tamerin wanted to know.

"Wear it to a special occasion and look hot," her mother replied simply.

"But what if I need to run?" she pressed. "You can't run in a skirt."

"Or heels," Charley added slyly, sounding like she was enjoying all this.

Tamerin felt her eyes bulge. "Heels?" she squeaked.

Eyebrows lifted questioningly, her mother deposited about a mile of slippery material in her hands and asked, "Why would you need to run?"

"You always need to run when the lasers start flying."

"Well, jeez, what kind of special occasions do you plan on going to?"

"None," Tamerin said flatly. "Everyone we know is already married, so I don't have any more weddings to attend."

"Yet," her mother corrected firmly. "Your son might get married someday, so think of this as practice for picking out something that won't make him embarrassed you came."

Ever relentless, she placed one last gown in her arms and then nudged her into the nearest changing room, pulling the privacy curtain closed after she was inside. Tamerin did a quick scan of the small room, but there was only more plush carpeting, velvet walls with numerous hooks and mirrors hanging on them, and a couple of benches...no way to escape. So, with a grumbling sigh, she shed her biker boots, distressed jeans, gray t-shirt with the name of her favorite Martian mouse band emblazoned on the front, and her favorite cropped leather jacket, and then, with another grumbling sigh, grabbed one of the frothy gowns from the pile of other frothy gowns and started pulling it over her head.

A few minutes later, she was surveying herself in a nearby mirror, face scrunched up in annoyance. The dress she was wearing was black, which she knew looked nice with her white skin, and while she liked that it was sleeveless (left plenty of room for arm movement, if she needed to move quickly) the skirt was so...short.

"How's it going in there?" her mother asked from the other side of the curtain. "Have you talked yourself into changing yet?"

"Yes," Tamerin groused. "And I hate it."

"Well, get out here so I can see it. I don't trust your opinion."

"That door swings both ways, Mom."

"Let me take a look too," Charley said, laughter plain in her voice. "I'll be the objective third opinion."

"You two are enjoying this _way_ too much," Tamerin informed them testily, but she pushed the curtain aside and stepped barefoot out of the changing room.

Her skimpy dress' assessment didn't take long. Her mother pulled a face, while Charley, who looked like she had changed her mind about 'just looking' and had at least two pieces of lingerie draped over her arm, quickly shook her head. "We're trying to find something dinner appropriate," she pointed out. "This one is kind of more fitting for..."

"Those strippers we were talking about earlier?" Tamerin supplied.

"Ummm...yeah, that'll do."

So Tamerin went back into the changing room and tried on the next one, which also got a thumbs-down, as did the next one. It felt like hours later when she had finally whittled the pile down to the last handful, and she barely glanced at her reflection after tugging another dress on before heading back out. Charley had gotten bored and was wandering around another part of the store, and her mother...

For a moment Tamerin didn't see her, but then she spotted her around the corner from the dressing rooms, over by a rack of blouses. At first it looked like she was perusing them before she realized that she was leaning one hand against the wall, head down and her other hand pressed to her middle. Tamerin hurried closer with a frown. "Mom? Are you okay?"

Her mother's head shot up--like she had surprised her--and she flashed a shaky smile...while she edged back as Tamerin tried to reach over and steady her, dodging away from her outstretched hand. "I'm fine," said Mom. "Just pregnant."

And winded, Tamerin added silently, but before she could press the issue her mother's eyes darted over her current outfit. A frown touched her lips. "Don't think I care for that one either," she mused.

"It fits like a bag," Tamerin said dully.

"The color's all wrong, too," Charley chimed in as she rejoined them. "Try the blue one next," she suggested. "Blue looks great on you."

And it was one of her favorite colors, so Tamerin gladly took off the pale brown bag-thing and lifted the deep blue gown from the remaining dresses. She wasn't sure what it was made of, but the material was incredibly smooth and soft, the gown sleeveless and floor-length and embellished in a couple of places with white crystals. It looked super-expensive, and after slipping it on and going over to stand in front of a mirror, Tamerin had to admit that it looked a little, well...good.

She'd always thought those clichés you usually heard at a moment like this were exaggerating a little (fits like a glove/second skin, feels like it was made just for you, and so on) but right now, they kind of sounded appropriate. The gown fit her so well, it barely felt like she was wearing anything at all as she twisted this way and that, looking herself over from front to back. The neckline was high, only swooping low enough to show off her collarbones, and there were more crystals around the collar and along the hemline.

But as well as it fit her, it still felt strange to be in a skirt that brushed the floor--especially one with a slit almost up to her hip, and she opened her mouth to say so as she stepped back out...but she never got a chance to form the words, because as soon as she appeared Charley exclaimed, "That's the one!"

"I agree," said Mom, with approval. "You look amazing."

Tamerin flushed and wondered how she could talk herself out of this, but the saleswoman was already arranging to have the gown boxed--while Charley magically dug up a matching pair of pumps for her. And between the pumps, the gown, and the lingerie Charley blushingly added to the pile, the total price was a good deal over what Tamerin still had in her wallet. Which she had been expecting--well, hoping--since on account of conversion rates, Martian currency was worth a little less in this sector.

Unfortunately, Charley happily offered to pay the remaining cost, saying that it was the least she could do after Tamerin had taken them out for such a nice afternoon. The former general couldn't think of a polite way to refuse after such a sweet gesture--and then it finally hit her that just because she was bringing the gown home didn't mean her mate ever had to see it.

She was terrible at telling lies--all Imeerans were, since they never bothered to practice them when everyone in their society was essentially a walking lie detector, but they were all excellent at keeping secrets. And as luck would have it, no one was home when she transported back to Mars, so she scurried to the bedroom, shoved the box holding the gown and pumps into a spot Throttle would never look, and then breezed into the kitchen to start on lunch.

Throttle would never have to know.


	3. Now We Are Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The title says it all. Takes place roughly three months after the previous tangent. Rated G.

Deep inside the military base, Vinnie sat numbly on a bench out in a hallway in the medical wing, fidgeting nervously as he stared blindly at the opposite wall. His fingers were like ice as he drummed them on his knees, and his feet felt like lead as he shifted them from time to time. Faceless figures crossed in front of him every once in a while, but he didn't pay any attention to them. Not until someone came and stood so the black of her shirt filled his vision, her bare arms extra white in the industrial lighting as she folded them. "What are you doing out here?" asked Tamerin.

Feeling like he was being pulled out of a daze, Vinnie blinked up at her. "Well, there isn't a real waiting room, so..."

There had been an actual hospital once, but it had been blown up years ago, so civilian injuries and illnesses were treated here at the base. Plans were in the works to build a new hospital, but they were still in the early stages and it would probably be a while before the grand opening.

Tamerin tapped her foot, like she was growing impatient about something. "I'm well aware of that," she said, her tone dry. "What are you waiting out here for? Or to be more specific...why aren't you in there with her?"

Vinnie gave her a funny look. "Wouldn't I just be in the way right now?"

This was a whole new experience for him, but he'd heard all about it, and he was pretty sure he understood his role. There wasn't a whole lot an expectant father could do except sit outside and wait anxiously while his wife labored in the next room, until he was told that it was all over and he could go see her and their new baby. That's what he'd been led to understand, anyway.

Tamerin's expression was calm, but there was a distinct look of disapproval in her eyes. "Did Charley ever tell you about the night Vector was born?" she asked.

Vinnie looked at her strangely again. "More or less. Did she tell _you_?"

"Not in detail. She vaguely alluded to it once, when I took her to Malteria so Deichan could give her a checkup."

Charley hadn't told him much more than that when he asked her what had happened when their son was born. Deep down, he had known that it probably wasn't the cheeriest of stories, but part of him had still hoped that it was such a happy moment it had overshadowed everything else. Instead, Charley briefly described to him how alone and afraid she had felt that night, and how it made her realize just how much she loved and missed him, even if she didn't want to admit it to herself.

Sitting here now, he tried to picture that for a minute. Pictured her lying there all alone, wishing he had been there at her side as she brought their son into the world, wishing that he had been there to hold him with her as he took his first breath, let out his first cry, and opened his eyes for the first time...

Swallowing back the hard lump that was rising in his throat, Vinnie pulled himself to his feet, marched straight down the hall and stopped outside a room on the right. There was movement on the other side of the closed door, but everything sounded quiet otherwise. Swallowing again, he tentatively pushed the old-fashioned swinging door open a few inches and poked his head in.

A mouse nurse was standing off to one side and writing on a chart, while Ashlin was sitting vigilantly by the lone bed in the room. The young Martian had worked as petite Deichan's assistant for years and knew a lot about medicine, plus he and Charley loved and trusted her, so even though Ashlin had never seen a live birth before, they had both agreed they wanted her to be present today. And speaking of Charley...

She was lying back in the bed on a mound of pillows, with a soft-looking blanket draped over her. She had her hands folded on her round middle and was breathing heavily, her cheeks deeply flushed. It looked like she was in discomfort, but when Ashlin leaned closer and whispered something, Charley flashed a brave smile.

Clearing his throat, Vinnie said softly, "Anyone mind if I come in?"

All eyes turned to him. With one of her gentle smiles, Ashlin discreetly got up and went to join the nurse on the other side of the room, while Charley sat up straighter with a look of surprise. Any doubt he had over whether he should be here or not faded into oblivion when he saw the burst of happiness that spread over his wife's face. Her smile was almost dazzling, even as her eyes grew moist, and she sat up a little more and stretched forward as her arms opened wide.

Vinnie rushed into them and held her tight, stroking her hair and kissing her face. "It's okay," he whispered as she clung to him, sniffling. "I'm here now. And I'm not going anywhere."

Charley's eyes grew moister, but the smile never left her face as she gazed up at him. She didn't say anything, and she didn't need to; the love in her eyes said it all as she cupped his face in her hands, running her thumbs over his cheeks. She stretched to kiss his nose before settling back against her pillow mound again.

After grabbing an extra stool, Vinnie made himself comfortable at his wife's side and took her hand, while Ashlin returned to her other side and gently felt her large belly for a moment. "We gave her a little local anesthesia," she commented as she stepped back again. "It should dull most of the pain--though not all of it," she added, her tone apologetic.

"I'm fine," Charley told her, even though her eyebrows suddenly drew together, her forehead lining in a wince while her grip on Vinnie's hand tightened. "Believe me, this is a million-and-one times nicer than when I had Vector. Even if I was in worse pain than I was back then, it would still be worth it."

As she spoke, she turned her head and smiled at her husband again. Her cheeks were red and her forehead was beaded with sweat, and it was a few minutes before her grip on his hand relaxed and she let out a slow breath. Vinnie smoothed back her hair and kissed her forehead, then rested his head against hers. "Love you," he whispered.

Smiling faintly, Charley reached up to brush her fingers over his cheek. "Me, too."

Vinnie stayed glued at his wife's side for the next few hours, and both Ashlin and the nurse looked her over from time to time--and occasionally peeked under the blanket--while he held her hand and spoke softly to her whenever she had a contraction. He couldn't help worrying, but Charley kept smiling at him and insisting that she was nowhere near the level of discomfort she was in the last time she gave birth.

After a while Vinnie lost all track of time. Nothing else mattered right now except for what was happening here in this room. He knew how long this could potentially take and was ready to spend the rest of the night here, if he had to--so he wasn't expecting it when Ashlin took another peek under the blanket and announced that it was about time for Charley to start pushing.

"Already?" he asked.

His wife let out a weak laugh and poked him. "What do you mean, 'already?' I've been lying here for hours."

Vinnie didn't respond. His hands shook a little as he blotted sweat off Charley's face, and as Ashlin helped her get situated while the nurse pushed back the blanket and propped her feet up, his heart sped until it was thumping wildly. He felt nervous, excited, anxious, a little scared. This was it. The big moment itself.

He hoped they didn't expect him to watch.

A doctor was called in, and he sat on a low stool at the foot of the bed while the nurse stood close by, both of them wearing gloves and masks. Ashlin hovered but stayed out of the way, a small, cheerfully-colored blanket in her hands and an expression on her face that about matched how Vinnie felt right now. Her eyes were glued to what the doctor and nurse were doing, while Vinnie kept close to his wife and continued to hold her hand.

"You can do it, Charley-girl," he murmured. "Just keep breathing in and out--deep breaths."

In spite of the pain that was lining her face, she still managed to flash him a quick, wry smile. "I know. I've done this before, remember?"

Vinnie fell quiet, and not just because the doctor told her to start pushing. Honestly, he did find himself forgetting that sometimes. For him, all of this was happening for the very first time, because he wasn't there the night their son was born. He'd missed the sounds his wife had made as she labored--how she gasped for breath, grunted from the effort of pushing, let out the occasional sharp cry as the pain spiked through the anesthesia.

"You're doing great," the doctor told her.

And he'd missed all those precious little things he'd thought about earlier, right before he came in here. Things that would have seemed unimportant once but were now priceless to him.

"That's it," the doctor urged. "Just one more."

He'd missed his chance to hold his son as a newborn, too. Along with his first steps, his first word, his first laugh. And countless other moments--moments he'd spent the last fifteen months trying to make up for but would never actually get back.

Charley's grip on his hand tightened until it hurt as she braced herself to push again. Keeping his fingers firmly around hers, Vinnie eased off the stool and drifted to the foot of the bed--as far as he could move without letting go. When he couldn't step any closer, he leaned forward and craned his neck, trying to look around his wife's upturned knees.

There really wasn't anything he could see at this angle. Just the doctor's hands as they reached up--reached up to catch something that seemed to slip out from his wife's body and into the world all at once. Tiny feet kicked. Impossibly small fingers clenched into doll-sized fists. A single short, shrill cry cut through the air.

Charley's hand suddenly left his as she sank back against the pillows with a tired exhale of breath, but Vinnie barely noticed. It was like everything on Mars--in the entire universe--had faded off into the background, unimportant and invisible to his eyes. All he could see was that tiny being cupped in the doctor's hands, while Ashlin helped cut and tie off the cord. Then she helped the nurse gently clean the bitty, fidgeting creature off and made short use of a miniature scale on a nearby counter before turning to the mouse who was watching it all, awestruck.

Ashlin's face was aglow as she lifted her cradled arms out to him, displaying their contents which were wrapped oh so carefully in the blanket. "It's a girl," she said softly.

Vinnie's heart was reaching breakneck speeds again, and it turned over a couple of times as Ashlin passed his newborn daughter to him. She looked so very tiny and delicate, her little pink fists clenching tightly as she made quiet mewling sounds. She was just perfect, from the tips of her stubby antennae to the...well, he couldn't see the bottoms of her toes right now, but he was sure that they were perfect, too. And she had the sweetest little ears, very round and smaller than what a mouse usually had, but still very much a mouse's ears.

Her soft skin was pink from head to toe, lightly mottled with a brighter peach color, and her precious little nose was a pale brown, like cinnamon. And the eyes that slowly blinked open and gazed up at him, dewy with tears, were the deepest of greens. Deep and bright and glittering like faceted jewels.

Just like her mother's eyes.

Vinnie's own eyes suddenly grew moist, but he barely noticed as he cuddled his baby girl closer, kissing and nuzzling her downy cheek as love flared in his heart until it burned. It was the same feeling he got the first time he held Vector. There wasn't another feeling like it anywhere in the world.

With his eyes still glued to the little face that watched him in return, green eyes teary but full of trust, Vinnie slowly backed up and sat down on his stool again. As he was carefully adjusting his hold--with no plans of letting go any time soon--there was a small tug on his ear.

"Hey," he heard his wife say, voice tired but amused. "It's my turn."

Vinnie felt a pang of reluctance, but he turned and gently placed their tiny daughter in her arms. Charley's face and hair was still damp with sweat, and her eyes glistened with tears--but he knew her more than well enough to know that they were tears of joy. Her face shone as she drifted her fingertips over their baby's hairless, satiny ears, her delicate muzzle and nose, softly gripped one of her tiny fists.

Glowing with love, Charley let out a soft laugh. "She's beautiful," she said, sounding awed.

Her husband couldn't help smiling wryly. "Of course she is. She's got her mother's looks."

Laughing again, Charley kissed their daughter's face and hugged her close. "What are we going to call her?"

They'd discussed--and in some cases argued about--a long list of possible names; some for boys, some for girls, some that could work either way depending on how you spelled it. As he looked at his new baby girl's face, and saw the feeling in his heart reflected in his wife's eyes, he mentally tossed those choices out the nearest window and picked a different one--the only one that fit, as far as he was concerned.

"Joy," he said, with decisiveness.

His wife smirked at him. "Don't remember discussing that one," she noted.

"We didn't," he admitted, "but it's the only name I can think of. It's the only word that can really describe how I feel right now."

Charley's eyes moistened again. "Same here."

She kissed their baby girl tenderly. "And I agree. Joy is the perfect name for her."

Vinnie sat quietly for the next few minutes, just watching the two of them together as his heart filled with emotion until it hurt. Sniffling, he leaned closer and pressed a kiss to his wife's cheek before laying his head on her shoulder. Charley had Joy cradled carefully in the crook of her arm, her hand laid gently on the front of the blanket, just over her little heart; Vinnie placed his hand over hers. "I love you so much, Charley-girl."

Charley leaned to kiss his tear-dampened face. "I know. I love you every bit as much."

Vinnie might have sat there watching them forever, if someone leaning over him and tapping his shoulder hadn't gotten his attention. Grudgingly tearing his eyes away, he looked up to see Ashlin smiling warmly at him. "I hate to disturb you three," she said softly, "but you have visitors."

It was against labor room policy to allow more than one trusted person into the room during delivery (Ashlin didn't count since she'd been assisting the nurse) but the doctor didn't object as the petite Martian scurried to the door and waved to someone out in the hall.

A trio of heads poked into the room a second later, one gray, one tan, and one white with long hair; they peeked around the door with matching grins. Laughing, Charley held Joy so they could see her, which prompted a chorus of 'awwwww' and exclamations of 'congratulations!' and wisecracks like 'nice work, bro.'

Laughing along with everyone, Ashlin left the room for a moment and came scurrying back, carrying a very eager-looking, squirmy white mouse in her arms.

Grinning, Vinnie hopped up and took his son from her, then turned to lean close to the bed. "See?" he said softly, as Vector looked, wide-eyed, at his baby sister for the first time. "This is your new sister, Joy. Whaddya think?"

Vector blinked his dark eyes, then let out a giggle and clapped his little hands. "Cute!"

Charley laughed and pinched his nose, while Vinnie gave him a tight hug and asked, "You're going to help us spoil her, right?"

"Wotten," Vector agreed.

"Not _too_ rotten," Charley said wryly.

"She looks pretty sweet to me," Ashlin noted, a look of admiration--and a touch of envy--in her eyes.

Vinnie smirked, then leaned to kiss both his girls before sitting down again with Vector on his lap. The energetic two-year-old eventually grew sleepy and nodded off, his bros and Tam tiptoed away, and the doctor whispered his own congratulations before heading off to other obligations. Vinnie continued to linger, while Ashlin quietly took Vector home, and the nurse briefly carried Joy away to be examined more thoroughly and make sure she was completely healthy.

The happy father fidgeted while he waited for the nurse to come back; Charley ended up falling asleep. When the nurse returned and saw that Joy's mommy was dozing, she told Vinnie with a smile that Joy was in perfect health, then offered to take her to the makeshift nursery for the time being.

Vinnie, who had grabbed a more comfortable chair while he was waiting, shook his head. "I'll hold her until Charley wakes up," he said firmly.

"Are you sure?" the nurse asked, as Vinnie reached over and took his sleeping daughter from her.

As he kissed Joy's soft forehead, he thought about how she would probably only be in the nursery for a couple of hours at the most--and thought about how even those few short hours were more time than he was willing to miss. With a smile, he settled back in his seat. "I'm sure."


	4. What Really Matters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This one was actually supposed to be a scene included in chapter 26 of Together On Mars...but for one reason or another, I completely forgot to add it and by the time I noticed the story had been finished for weeks, and it would have been kind of awkward to write it in and then tell everyone they needed to reread that chapter...so I forgot about it again. But now, looking at future tangents, I realized that one part of the scene in particular is kind of important, so long story short (too late...) I decided to cram it in here.
> 
> Takes place in chapter 26 of Together On Mars immediately after Nitro and Carbine shake hands. Rated G.

Modo couldn't remember the last time he'd felt so exhausted. It didn't occur to him until he suddenly felt ready to curl up right in the dirt and sleep till next week that he had been awake since he got up yesterday morning. Thinking about it made him stop and stare into the distance in disbelief; was it really just yesterday morning that all this started? Between the sand raider attack, heading out to the lab, rushing his bro to the hospital, and taking part in the battle all last night, it felt like weeks had passed since then.

And work was far from over. The cleanup was only just beginning, and they had all just agreed it was time to go back and check out the state of the garage. Stifling a yawn, he tightened his arm around Ashlin and started to turn to follow his bros--but Ashlin abruptly broke away from his side and ran in the other direction. The same direction her father had gone after coming to an agreement with Carbine.

"Wait!"

Modo didn't expect anyone to answer; all the rats had already disappeared like evaporating mist. But Nitro quickly reappeared, stepping between a pair of mice who were walking by. "What's wrong?"

Just a minute ago his expression had been stony, but as his daughter ran to meet him it turned caring and concerned. Ashlin's own expression was imploring--and apologetic, her dark eyes as they gazed up at him pleading for forgiveness. Modo couldn't imagine what for.

"We left in such a hurry," she began falteringly, "and then everything happened so fast...I-I forgot to blow up the lab."

Oh, thought Modo. He had forgotten all about that too...and right now he couldn't care less. There were much more important things going on, and judging by the look on Nitro's face as he smoothed his daughter's tangled hair back from her upturned face, he was thinking the exact same thing. "What matters to me is that you're safe," he told her in a firm voice. "I never wanted you to go there in the first place. And I don't want you trying anything else just to prove yourself; you've already done more than enough to show exactly how trustworthy and loyal you are. And I can make sure the others know that. In fact..."

He paused, his eyes shifting briefly to Modo, who had moved to stand behind the one he loved, before tenderly brushing his clawed hand over Ashlin's cheek. "You're my daughter and I love you. I want you to be able to come see me whenever you want--and _wherever_ you want."

Ashlin stared in surprise. "Really? Are you sure?"

"More than sure. You deserve to come and go as you please like any other rat. I'll see to it that our city becomes a second home to you."

The small Martian was beaming in delight now, and she turned to smile at the mouse standing behind her, quietly watching this unfold. "Modo too?" she wondered.

Nitro sobered in a hurry. "I think that would be one step too many right now," he advised.

"I understand," Modo said quickly, as Ashlin opened her mouth to object. "Trust can't just be handed out; it's gotta be earned. I won't mind waitin' here for her when she decides to visit."

Ashlin still looked doubtful, but Nitro looked pleased. Modo smiled faintly. "And I know she'll be safe while I'm not around."

Her father smiled in return, his eyes silently conveying respect. "Likewise."

He looked at Ashlin again. "I better go. See you soon?"

She nodded and reached to hug him tight; he pressed a soft kiss to her forehead, then stepped back and faded off into the crowd again. Modo slid his arm around Ashlin and gave her shoulder a loving squeeze. "Ready to go?"

Smiling, she wrapped both arms around his middle and rested her head on his side, and together they rejoined the others.


	5. Looking Forward To Now

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When waking up one very special morning, Jayce reflects on the last thirty years of his life.
> 
> Not really sure how to rate this one, so I'll play it safe and say it's PG-ish. Takes place a few weeks after tangent 3.

Sometimes Jayce could hardly believe the direction his life had taken. Sometimes, he would lie quietly after waking up before his mate and watch as she continued to sleep beside him, mapping out in his mind the long road he had traveled before arriving at this place. This special place he never thought he would actually reach.

He had kept it a secret from everyone he knew, but he had fallen for Dee when he was only twelve years old. Granted, he had been too young to really recognize what it was he was feeling, but Imeerans were funny that way. It was actually pretty common for someone that young to connect with someone older, to have something deep inside them identify the qualities they would one day desire in a mate, if only on a subconscious level. If that connection was made at such a young age, the person in question mostly felt comforted and happy when the other was around, until they grew older and that feeling blossomed into something deeper.

Of course, whether you were young or old, feeling drawn to someone didn't automatically mean they would feel the same about you. And finding out whether someone was interested in you or not was a lot easier for them than it was for races who couldn't sense everything someone was feeling with just a brief touch. The best thing to do if you were flowing with affection for someone but felt none in return was to withdraw and keep yourself at a distance from them until those feelings faded and someone else caught your attention, because in a society where looks meant little and personal qualities meant everything, the chances of changing someone's mind when they were indifferent to you were more than a little low.

On the other hand, if two people were mutually attracted to each other, it was typical for them to fall head over heels for each other in a hurry, even if they had only just met. A normal Imeeran courtship generally only lasted for a few weeks, because the sense that you had found the one you wanted to spend the whole of your immortal life with was one that rippled clear down to your soul. It was common practice for a couple who knew virtually nothing about each other beyond what they could feel when they touched to mate first and learn the finer details about each other afterward--which was something you could do safely when you lived in a society that was genetically programmed to never harm itself. No worries that your special someone was actually an ax murderer or something.

Learning all there was to know about each other in the days after they first mated was the normal routine for a new couple, which was sort of like the honeymoon stage for other races. Every spare moment was spent in bed, and when they weren't physically enjoying each other they were telling everything there was to tell about their lives, their past, all their hopes and dreams for the future. It was always obvious to everyone else when two became bonded even if they didn't say a word, since it was plain by the smell on their skin and the glow in their faces. One thing all new couples shared was euphoric happiness.

Jayce hadn't really known very much about the whole mating process when he lost his father, but he knew enough to know that he could have ended up losing his mother, too. Though he still recalled with significant bitterness that in the end, he basically had anyway. It had been his sister who raised him after that, his sister who would hold him during all the nights he cried, and it was his sister who had prepared him when he decided he wanted to enlist.

Every last citizen in their colony had some sort of training, especially once the war started, so they would be able to defend themselves and those around them if they had to. But it was left up to each individual if they actually wanted to pursue a full-blown military career, and Jayce had known practically from the day the shape-shifters came that that was what he wanted.

That was when he met Dee for the first time. He had heard Tamerin mention her numerous times, since they had been best friends ever since Tam became a scout, but Jayce didn't see her in person until he went in for his physical with the other young recruits. He didn't really think much of her at first sight, other than to note that she was pretty small for an adult, though that wasn't unusual for their species. But there was something about her that made him keep glancing at her for most of the morning. It was like she had an aura of calm surrounding her, making him feel safe--and safe was a feeling he had pretty much forgotten existed the day he saw his father die. It was a feeling that made him want to stick close to her.

And then, when his examination was finished, she had smiled and placed a friendly hand on his shoulder before moving on to the next recruit.

It was only for a moment, but it was enough. His empathic senses had always been pretty weak, but they were still more than strong enough to feel what she carried inside her heart. She was someone who was almost bursting with love and caring and concern. She cared about everyone around her, even if she didn't know them. She wanted everyone to be happy and pain-free, which was why she did what she did and had no plans to ever stop. She was brave and selfless and always thought of others before herself.

There were other doctors and plenty of med crews at the base, but Dee went back and forth between the base and the hospital all the time, so after that first meeting Jayce still saw her frequently. And every time he laid eyes on her he felt the knot of anger he always carried in the pit of his stomach back then disappear and his heart lift. It was like the whole world turned brighter and things didn't hurt quite so much.

Because even when you were that young, there was something instinctual present inside you that said when you'd found what you wanted, even if you didn't fully understand it yet. And sometimes it went beyond mere want and instinct guided you to someone that had something you needed in your life...even something you didn't realize you needed.

Not that it took him very long to figure it out. At that time, the decision not to breed hadn't been made yet, and couples shaken by the abrupt arrival of a war no one understood started showering extra attention on each other. Even in the base itself, mated couples were openly affectionate both to their mates and their children--because it was common for several generations to be working alongside each other. His father's old friend Madson had numerous children and grandchildren, and he never hesitated to remind them how much he loved them whenever he could.

Madson was one of the ones who looked out for him in those early years, especially when Tam wasn't around, since in those days she was still sent off on scouting missions. Just because they were at war didn't mean they had to stop exploring other worlds and learning new things--especially if they learned something that would help them fight. He also met Trent when he was thirteen and despite being twenty years older, the dark-haired male took a liking to him and gave him pointers.

Though he really hadn't needed a great deal of guidance at any point in his career. Tam had prepared him well...and they had both taken after their mother when it came to strength and skill. He was smart and a fast learner and breezed through basic training. But one thing both Trent and Madson--Madson in particular--had advised him during that time was to make sure he kept his temper under control. Jayce wasn't going to deny that he had one. Being passionate kind of ran in the family--and Madson told him that was fine, as long as it didn't get in the way of his duties. If he, as he was determined to, got out there and met their enemy face to face, he was going to see things that killed him inside. But no matter what happened, he had to keep what he was feeling to himself until the mission was complete. He could let it all out as soon as it was over, but until then he needed to stay focused and finish whatever it was he was doing, even if the bodies of his closest friends were piling up around him.

Keeping what he was feeling to himself quickly became a skill he excelled at. He'd always let things out later, when no one was looking, but when he had a task to perform, no amount of anger or pain was going to stop him. Of course, keeping pain from showing on his face didn't change the fact that someone could feel it when they touched him...but he grew tall fast, and he had the kind of presence about him that made people hesitate to get too close, which tended to make others give him his space even before he had a commanding position.

And before he became a captain and was given command of his own unit, he served under Madson, his sister when she was promoted to Major, and a few other high-ranking officers. Though he had frequently followed orders she sent out, he never actually followed his mother's command directly. Which suited him just fine, because he didn't think that was something he would have been able to handle.

During the first ten years of his service, he actually didn't see his mother all that much. Her only interest was climbing to the top; family wasn't something she could be bothered with. That was made abundantly clear in the rare instances in the early years that he _did_ see her. Tam had warned him beforehand how she acted now, but being met with such cold indifference the first time their paths crossed had still hurt.

It was then and there that he had decided to stay single until he died. Losing Jayce's father was what had caused his mother to be like this and he didn't want that for himself--or to end up doing it to someone else. By the time he was fourteen and the death toll in their colony just kept on rising, he saw up close how his species handled the loss of the one they loved most, and it was never good. Even if they survived the shock, they still didn't really do anything that qualified as living after that. He saw a number of his fellow officers become incapable of continuing their duties, because they were too busy shuffling aimlessly through their days like lost souls, their minds neither here nor there.

Jayce didn't want to end up like that any more than he wanted to leave someone else in such a sorry state, so the logical solution was to never mate. He didn't see himself having any trouble carrying out this plan, since even though he was a teenager already he hadn't really noticed females yet. Sure, he worked alongside them every day, but his focus was on his duties and nothing else.

And then he was promoted at fourteen to a position that put him exactly where he wanted to be; in a battle unit that was on call to head to the surface whenever there was need. Which meant he now bunked at the base with his fellow soldiers. He ate with them, shared quarters with them...and had to shower with them.

He'd heard shortly after he first enlisted that males and females showered together, but his twelve-year-old mind hadn't registered that thought the same way his fourteen-year-old one abruptly did. He'd learned all about the particulars of their biology by then, and what he'd come to understand was that they weren't as visual as other races. When it came to someone you were attracted to, the most arousing of the five senses was smell. The scent of his or her mate drove an Imeeran wilder than anything else, followed closely by their taste and touch. Looks were fairly even with the sound of their voice--and all that only applied if you had a mate in the first place.

If you were unmated...actually, that was exactly what had him nervous that day as he headed into the shower room with the rest of his combat unit. If you were mated, no amount of naked flesh would interest you, no other smell would catch your attention. Too much sensual stimulation from something or someone that wasn't your mate could actually cause discomfort and nausea. But if you were _un_ mated...it was possible to be aroused by others, especially if they weren't mated either.

Not that he was worried he wouldn't be able to maintain complete control of himself. But the thought of being surrounded by nude females scrubbing their wet, gleaming skin was enough to make him sweat a little that morning. He tried to be discreet about how on-edge he was, and he tried not to look at anyone as clothes were nonchalantly shed and shower heads were turned on--and then it dawned on him that not looking was probably his best course of action right now.

So he'd stared at the floor as he removed his uniform, then fumbled his way over to an empty space near Trent and Madson. Whenever he caught movement out of the corner of his eye that he thought might be female, he made sure to shift his gaze to the floor, or the wall, or to blur his vision by crossing his eyes a little. After several minutes, during which he successfully soaped up and rinsed off without attracting attention, he started to relax and think that he was going to get through this without any problems, or anyone figuring out that this was the first time he was being exposed to a naked female form--let alone a whole room full of them.

And then, because he was so busy not looking at anything, including at what he was doing, he fumbled and dropped the soap. Still without looking, he quickly bent down to pick it up again. And bashed his forehead against the alloy wall in front of him so hard he saw a brilliant burst of white and stars.

When his vision finally cleared and his head stopped spinning, he found himself lying back on the hard, wet floor, and there were muffled sniggers of laughter sounding over the hiss of shower spray. Someone was leaning over him--someone with light brown skin, bright yellow hair, soft shoulders...and full breasts, made all the fuller by how she was resting her hands on her knees as she bent closer. Instead of concern, there was a look of amusement on her face.

"Okay, kiddo," Melina sighed, "better get it out of your system before you hurt yourself again. Trust me, when it sinks in that you can't touch, looking gets boring pretty fast."

So much for being discreet. But Melina didn't seem to mind that he was quietly but plainly gawking at her ample chest--though he only got to look for a handful of seconds before her new mate Trent decided this had gone on long enough and casually threw the curvy female over his shoulder and carried her out of the room.

But Jayce's quick look had been enough. He had to admit that his first glimpse of female flesh had caused his heart to flutter in a strange excitement...but the feeling had faded as quick as it had come. Melina was as pretty as the next female, but she was awfully curvy. Trent thought she was sheer perfection, but as Jayce picked himself up off the floor with as much dignity as he could, he was suddenly hit with the realization that he liked a figure that was a lot slimmer, with a small chest.

He had never stopped to think about it before, but as he started washing his hair between subtle glances at his fellow soldiers, who were carrying on casual conversation with each other as easily as they did at mealtimes, he got the itching feeling that there was something significant about his preference. Because at this stage in his life, he really shouldn't have a preference of any kind and should view the lithe females bathing around him with equal interest...but none of them sparked his attention in the slightest.

And he knew there was only one reason why that would be. Looks were pretty inconsequential to his kind...except when you were in love. Then the object of your desire became the definition of beauty and wonder in your eyes. And there just so happened to be someone in his life that he felt like he couldn't be around enough, someone who just so happened to have a slight figure and a small chest.

And he wouldn't feel that nothing could be more beautiful unless he just so happened to be very much in love with her.

The first thought to enter his mind was that she couldn't know--no one could know. He'd sworn off mating and he didn't want to hurt her feelings if she found out. Not that he thought she would ever return his affection. And keeping the truth from her was as simple as keeping what he felt from her, and that meant making sure they never came in physical contact. Easy enough...they had only lightly bumped into each other once or twice since the day they met. He'd make sure to keep a safe distance between them from now on, though he couldn't bring himself to stay away from her completely--especially when he was upset. Being in her presence calmed him just as much as an adult as it did when he was twelve.

In fact, between the time he figured out he loved her and the year he turned sixteen, he used any and every excuse he could when he felt like going to see her, even if he only had enough time to drop by her office for a second. Just seeing her face made him happy...even though it also made him think about how much he wanted to hold her. Take care of her. Be there for her when she needed him. He quickly got into a habit of running errands for her whenever he had free-time.

Looking back now, he probably didn't do as good of a job keeping his feelings a secret as he thought.

Tam had sure figured things out in a hurry. He'd just come back from partying at the game parlor for his sixteenth birthday, stopping at the hospital to say goodnight to Dee before heading back to the base, and the first thing his oddly smug sister said when she met him inside was, "I think you should stop pretending and let her know."

He was pretty sure he had never turned so red in his life. Good thing he didn't have a skin color that really showed it. "If you tell her, I'll kill you," he'd said simply in response.

She'd only laughed and walked back with him to his room. "You can't kill me."

"Fine. I'll just strangle you until my genes make me stop."

In spite of his threats, she continued to drop hints whenever she caught him gazing longingly at Dee from afar, or coming back from running another errand. Finally, Jayce lost his patience. "What if I get killed in battle?" he had demanded. "She'd either die or end up like Mom. I can't do that to her."

Tamerin had given him a sad, understanding look and backed off after that, though she didn't fail to notice that his interest never faded. It wasn't like distancing yourself from someone who didn't want you, where you could--in time--get over how you felt and find someone else. He didn't know for sure that she didn't want him, and as long as there was that thought in the back of his mind that they could be together under different circumstances, his love wasn't going to just go away. If anything, it kept getting stronger.

Which, as time went on, made it painfully temping to go back on his decision and let her know how he felt. And that wasn't the only temptation he ended up dealing with.

By the time he turned sixteen, he knew pretty much all there was to know about his own species' biology. Which wasn't to say that there still wasn't a thing or two that still mystified him--like why unmated females sometimes disappeared for up to a week at a time. He'd noticed during the years he'd had to live in close quarters with the other members of his unit that both females and males smelled a little different depending on whether they had mated or not. Generally speaking, Imeerans had very little odor to begin with, and mated Imeerans seemed to have even less--except after they'd been intimate, of course. Jayce eventually came to identify the rich, musky and sweet scent that lingered on someone's skin for hours afterward as the scent of someone who'd just had sex.

That scent was the most potent on recently mated couples, since their pheromones were on overdrive as they coupled almost nonstop and their bodies physically synchronized with each other while their new bond was formed. But even then, it wasn't _that_ strong of a smell, so even after he was told that females did their little disappearing act on account of fertility, his young, naive self thought everyone was exaggerating a little when he heard that they separated themselves from unmated males for their own well being because of the smell they released.

For as long as he could remember, his sister would either take a trip to some unpopulated planet or explore the surface for a few days when her cycle rolled around, and shortly after his awkward first group shower he learned about the separate shower kept strictly for fertile females. And he heard warning stories from his senior officers about how he needed to be careful now that he was older. A lieutenant whose name he didn't know pulled him aside once and told him that there was no greater temptation in their colony than the smell of a fertile female.

It had actually caused some problems in the beginning, he went on to say, when the first twenty settled on Malteria. Back then, they didn't understand the way their own bodies worked, so the fact that an unbreakable bond was formed during sex had to be learned the hard way. Not breeding was avoided initially, back when they were held captive by their creators, but after they escaped and started building their underwater home, the urge for sexual contact between the surviving four females and the males they were drawn to became irresistible--especially when their next fertility cycle arrived.

That irresistible factor became a problem for the lonely leftover males in years to come, when more females were born and grew up but they still found themselves alone. Fortunately, no male had ever lost control of himself completely...though Jayce heard that some had come close more than once. Nowadays if a male found himself in a situation where temptation became too much, he would immediately remove himself from that female's presence and put as much distance between them as he possibly could. And if that part of his willpower failed, it was considered perfectly acceptable for anyone else present to drag him bodily away, and maybe smack a little sense back into him if they felt like he needed it.

And if there was no one else around, most females were capable of knocking sense into him herself...and if she was too small for that, her best bet was to start screaming at the top of her lungs. There were very few places in their colony where she wouldn't be heard, but usually by the time someone came running, things were all right again. According to the lieutenant, a male losing his head was following the urge to both take and give pleasure, not pain, so getting fear and tears in response to his advances was like a big bucket of ice water right to the crotch.

This had been proven early on, when a male from the original twenty, after many decades of being single but surrounded by affectionate couples finally lost it when he bumped into a fully-fertile female in one of the residential block's narrow hallways. She wasn't strong and couldn't fight back as he went so far as to grab her and start pulling her clothes off...but his empathic senses were sharp and the blast of terror he felt from her jolted him so bad it was enough to send him running. He was apparently so ashamed of himself he'd made the military lock him up until he was ready to show his face again.

Jayce assumed the lieutenant had told him all this in order to drill it into him that he was at the age where he needed to be cautious, but Jayce still thought everyone was exaggerating...until he got a direct whiff of that scent for himself, that is.

Nothing else was going on that day, so he had gone to the hospital to see how Dee was doing, just like he always did. There had been plenty of times in the past when he was told that she was unavailable, either because she was in the middle of examining someone or treating wounded, so when one of the nurses told him vaguely that she was 'indisposed,' he didn't think anything of it. He decided to stop in her office and wait until she was done, or if she was busy working on something in the back room, he'd say a quick hello and leave her alone.

She was in her office all right, but the instant the electronic door slid open, he forgot about saying hello. He'd forgotten how to talk, period; all he could do was stare stupidly, vision turning strangely foggy around the edges, and wish that he was wearing looser pants.

It didn't seem possible for any one thing to smell so good. It didn't seem possible for a mere scent to drive him completely out of his mind, until his entire body was aching with need. Rational thought melted way, physical instinct took over, guiding his eyes and ears to the source: the little figure sitting across the room at her desk. For a single moment it was like everything else vanished--unimportant. All that existed was that angelic being that he wanted so very badly--wanted to stop hiding from and share everything that he was with, wanted to take into his arms and never let go. He wanted to make her his.

For that single moment he didn't see any reason not to...and then his blurry eyes had focused on her face.

His desire must have been plain as day, because she had drawn back in her seat in fear, cheeks scarlet and nacre eyes round and moist. Her mouth was a little 'o' of horror as she pressed her fingers to it. Not the face he had been thinking about causing her to make...and it was enough for his muddled brain to sort out his thoughts and realize why he was scaring her so badly. He'd set his jaw hard and stepped a pace back, pressing the button that shut the door again on his way out.

It was an incident that he would always remember with a weird mix of shame and excitement. He felt bad that he'd scared her like that, but at the same time he knew from shower room gossip that he'd just hit a major milestone in his life as an Imeeran male. Even when they were unmated, neither males or females were that easily aroused, so...when a male got his first erection, it was considered a big step toward adulthood. So he made sure to casually mention it to his cronies as soon as he got back to the base, and he was laughingly congratulated and teased about who the lucky lady was...but he never told.

Still, it seemed to be true that he'd officially reached adulthood, even though Imeerans generally didn't stop aging completely until they were twenty or so. He didn't change a whole lot over the next four years except to grow even taller, more muscular, his jawline and facial features more defined. But there was one thing that never changed, not after thirty years of war had passed, and many of his friends had been killed in battle, and he had been promoted to Captain and had become a respected member of the military that people listened to without question. And that was his love for Dee.

It was just typical that it was his goofy sister, who'd always had a bad habit of poking her nose into everything, to be the one to finally force him into action. Kiss her breathless or I'll lock you up, she'd said. Her official last order as General before she retired. Sure, he could have overturned that order, since he was in charge now and with no other active generals left there was no one who could challenge his authority. But he didn't want to do that, because deep down he knew this was his chance to find out once and for all if the one he'd loved for so long was meant to be his and his alone.

And if not...he could always blame his actions on his crazy sister. "Tam ordered me to," he imagined saying after Dee pulled back in shock.

Not that he ever planned on being as forceful as he was told to be. Kiss her until she couldn't breathe? Yeah, right. He was going to keep what would no doubt end up to be a humiliating moment as short as he possibly could. So when he finally tracked Dee down to her office, and she got up and looked at him questioningly, he leaned down and planted a chaste, split-second kiss on her soft lips.

It was the first time they'd come in contact in over twenty-five years, and his senses were every bit as dull as ever...but they were still enough. The lightning-quick touch had been enough. He'd felt the flare of disbelief, the shock. The hope. The longing. The love.

Positive he must have imagined it, he had searched her upturned face for a long moment, seeing the emotions he had just touched reflected plainly in her wide eyes. But he had to be absolutely sure, so he'd kissed her again. He could have touched her in another way--any way--but he wasn't thinking very clearly anymore and part of his brain had been convinced that the only way he could be positive he was feeling what he was feeling was to feel it in the same manner he had a moment ago.

Nothing changed. He kissed her harder, put his arms around her and held her so tight her feet left the floor, but the love and overwhelming happiness he felt from her didn't go away. If anything the more he held and touched her the stronger those feelings grew, until she was crying tears of joy. So he ended up kissing her until she couldn't breathe after all, and when he finally let up they both gasped for air as she wrapped her arms around his neck, her tiny form trembling as she clung to him.

Neither of them really said anything after that. They both knew why the other never let on how they felt, why they had both made sure they never touched. They both knew that none of that mattered now. There was no reason for them to stay apart a second more, especially considering that they had known each other for so long, they already knew everything there was to know about each other. And now that they knew they were both desperately in love, the only thing left was to make their union complete.

With everyone else busy celebrating the war ending, Jayce was pretty sure no one noticed that Dee didn't go home that night.

In fact, she only went back to her apartment once a few days later to pack up her belongings and move them to his place. And after that, they were like any newly mated couple and spent every second they could in bed together. It was a bit of a juggle, since he had a lot of new responsibilities as General and a lot of things to sort out at the base--but not nearly as much as before now that the war was over.

It didn't take them long to fall into a blissful routine of meeting each other at work whenever they had a spare moment, and when things settled down again they were able to fall asleep in each other's arms every night. And they'd agreed shortly after they first got together that they were going to wait a while before they started on a family, even though a lot of their friends were already diving in feet-first now that they were free to start breeding again. And that decision had evaporated like it never existed a mere four months later when Dee's next fertility cycle started and Jayce was pulled from sleep by that insanely delicious smell that screamed 'have sex with me _now_.'

And now here they were, he thought absently, as he drew his fingertips down his sleeping mate's face. He ran them over a lock of her lavender hair, down the soft skin of her arm, rested his hand over her delicate fingers. Smiling faintly, he brushed his thumb over her knuckles for a moment, then moved his hand over to the front of her nightgown, pressing it to the roundness of her belly, almost visible through the thin gray material.

He waited for a few minutes, but he didn't feel any movement. It had been like that for a while now, now that their little one was twelve months along and about ready to be born. He--or she--used to kick up a storm, but for the last week or so the only movement Dee said she was feeling was a little 'elbowing,' like their baby was trying to make his cramped home a little roomier.

They didn't know for sure what they were having, which was actually kind of a pain not to find out, since they had to make sure no one told them when Dee went in for checkups, and they couldn't look at the monitor during the scan. But they had agreed they wanted to be surprised.

Smiling again, Jayce continued to softly caress his mate's belly. No one was sure, but most parents strongly believed that their unborn baby could sense them and their affection when they were that close, and so he let his feelings of love and anxiousness fill him, imagining them flowing out through his fingertips and reaching the little being he couldn't see yet.

He was getting anxious because he knew their baby could be born any day now. Maybe as soon as tomorrow, he'd finally get to see what he'd been waiting a year for.

Dee's hand suddenly shifted, moving to rest over his own; Jayce looked up to see her opening her pale eyes with a warm, sleepy smile. The affection in his heart shifting to his mate, he scooted up and softly kissed her lips, then smoothed her hair back with his free hand. "How you feeling?" he wondered.

Dee wrinkled her delicate nose for a second as she thought this over. "Heavy," she decided.

Jayce chuckled, kissed her again, then pulled his hand away and sat up. Dee stretched with a yawn and reached to turn on the bedside light. Here at the bottom of the ocean, it was always dark as night no matter what time it was, until a light was turned on that pushed back the blue of the water that shone through the windows above their bed.

Yawning again, Dee started to sit up and swing her feet to the floor; Jayce quickly got up and darted around the bed to take her hands. He helped her stand, then let go as she hurried past him to the bathroom. Well, hurried as quickly as she could, which wasn't very quick these days. He snickered at her cute little shuffle; she pretended to pout and disappeared into the bathroom.

After she was gone, Jayce took a moment to stretch his muscles and run his fingers through his tangled hair, while in his head he started going over his schedule for today. He needed to be at the base in a couple of hours, which would give him enough time to spend a pleasant morning at home. He would start on breakfast, and then maybe...

He didn't get to decide what else he was going to do, because he suddenly felt a flare of surprise, excitement, and a hint of fear from his little mate. It was sharp even to his dull senses, so she must have been pretty startled by something. There was only one reason he could think of why she'd suddenly feel that way, and before he could rush into the bathroom to confirm his suspicion, Dee came shuffling back out, hands cupping her full, round belly.

"Um...I think it's time."

Her moment of motherly panic when she'd realized that her water had broken was already gone, her spirit calm and collected and ready to face this. Jayce was about ready to pick her up and make a mad-dash for the hospital...but then he calmed himself down as another idea popped into his head.

Dee watched curiously as he started pulling the covers off the bed, stripping it down to the waterproof sheets they'd put on a while ago in case her water broke during the night. "What are you doing?" she asked.

"Getting things ready for our baby to arrive," he responded casually, before turning around and picking her up gently. He placed her on the bed, resting her against the mound of pillows.

Dee was eyeing in him surprise as she folded her hands on her middle. "Are you sure?"

"Sure, I'm sure," Jayce said with a grin. "You're a doctor, and you're the one doing all the work. All I need to do is catch, right?"

It was the least he could do--and the more he thought about it, the more he was sure that he didn't want anyone else doing it. They'd made this baby together and they'd bring him into the world together. The perfect end to their long journey.

Dee must have sensed what he was feeling, because she flashed him a shy smile as she settled back, her nacre eyes moistening a little.

Under different circumstances he probably wouldn't have made the decision so confidently, but Imeeran females, while a little unlucky in just how long they had to wait between conception and birth, were lucky in other ways. They were all strong, both inside and out, so even a little thing like Dee had powerful internal muscles that made birthing easier and less painful than it was for some. And thanks to the specifics of their engineering, the only obstacle that sometimes arose was the baby not turning enough. They'd learned during their last hospital visit that their baby was already facing the correct position. Everything was perfect.

All they had to do now was wait. After making sure his beloved mate was comfortable, Jayce pressed a kiss just above where her hands were clasped. "You go easy on your mother, now," he warned playfully.

Dee giggled; he grinned and kissed her belly again, then reached over to grab his wrist communicator from the nightstand. He wasn't going anywhere today, so he contacted Madson and informed him that his mate was in labor and he couldn't be bothered coming into work, so that made him acting General for the day.

Madson solemnly promised that he would carry out this responsibility with the utmost care and humility. An hour or so later Jayce got a call from the owner of the game parlor stating that someone proclaiming himself to be 'large and in charge' had taken the place over with a horde of giddy officers, insisting that it was important hand-eye coordination training.

"I'm so glad I can trust my men to be unwaveringly mature."

Dee started giggling again, even though Jayce could sense that she was in discomfort. Brave as ever, she weathered her contractions quietly, while he sat beside her and held her hand until they passed. He spent the next few hours alternately sitting with her and fetching things; towels and a blanket to clean and wrap their baby in, medical tools for severing the cord, a damp cloth to blot his mate's sweaty face, a glass of water when she got thirsty.

Finally, he took a look under the hem of her nightgown and saw what definitely looked like the crown of their baby's head. Jayce felt a flurry of nerves and excitement, but he kept himself composed as he gave his mate's hands a squeeze before nudging the skirt of her nightgown up and out of the way. "You can start pushing now," he coaxed.

Dee nodded, red-faced, and braced herself. She grew short of breath quickly and had to keep stopping to gasp for air, but within four strong, steady pushes, their baby was out and cradled in Jayce's waiting hands.

For a second everything fell silent--followed by an impressive bawling that lasted for a minute or two before quieting to a soft whimper. Dee settled back against the pillows with a tired groan, while Jayce stared mutely down at what he was cupping in his hands. A boy--a boy with the same shade of shadow-black skin that Jayce had, though instead of snowy white hair, his little tuft of baby fuzz was light gray.

Jayce only made a quick scan of the rest of his son before closing his teary eyes and holding him close, pressing his cheek to his downy little head as he tried not to sob too hard.

He sensed Dee's worry as she struggled to sit up, felt her eyes sweep over them as she tried to figure out what was wrong. Not that anything was. "What is it?" she asked in a small voice.

Sniffling, Jayce kissed the top of his son's head before holding him close again. "He looks just like my dad."

Understanding swept through his mate, along with a wave of love as she smiled at the two of them. "Is there anything special you want to call him?"

He could tell by the way she asked that she offering for him to name their son after his father...but Jayce had already decided months ago that he didn't want to. Their child was going to grow up to be his own person with his own identity. He needed a name that was just his own, too. "I think we should go with our first choice for a boy," he said firmly.

"Dirk?"

"Mm-hm. Fits him perfect."

Jayce spent the next few minutes dealing with the cord before gently drying his quietly fussing son off, then carefully placed him in his mother's waiting arms. Dee's face was aglow--and her heart soared even more when Dirk opened his eyes for the first time and blinked at her with nacre-colored orbs. Laughing softly, she kissed his tiny cheek before smiling at her mate. "Are you ready for all this?" she asked wryly.

Jayce kissed her tenderly before putting his arm around her and coaxing her to lean against him, his eyes on their new son. "I'm ready for everything."


	6. Duty Bound

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes life changes in the most unexpected ways, even when we don't want it to...or just believe that we don't.
> 
> Takes place about two months after the previous tangent. Rated T for language and some adult content.

_The bridges that we’ve built are strong enough_  
_The way we live, connect as one_  
_And when I look into your eyes I’m free_  
_It’s all I know, it’s all I need_  
~I Live;  Nemesea

"Do you need anything else, General?"

Carbine turned away from the fresh stack of reports--just one stack of many--she was going through and looked up at the brown-furred mouse standing in front of her desk. "No," she told him. "You're dismissed."

Vice gave a brief nod before turning and leaving her office. He moved quickly--he always did--but she still caught the flicker of disappointment that passed through his eyes. He'd calmed down a lot from the nervous, agitated being he had been when he first became one of her personal aides about two years ago, but it was part of his nature to be tense. He was the type who felt more at ease when he was immersed in work, so it was never pleasant news for him when he was told that his jobs were done for the day.

She tried giving him whatever odd tasks she could to keep him busy, but lately there was little to do other than file away reports and old data and maintain the base's orderly, day to day functions. Keep things running smoothly. Right after they finished cleaning up after the almost day-long battle with the sand raiders and surface rats, plus the other battle right before that, their next big job had been to change the way a couple of things were done around here--namely tighten up security on the grounds as well as limit who had access to the computers.

The whole situation with Harper was an embarrassment. It showed just how lax they had become, and all during the cleanup and for months after they had done everything they could to make amends with non-military citizens who had been hurt because of it. A year had passed already, and as far as they could tell the last remaining mouse involved in the whole insider conspiracy had been sniffed out--and dealt with.

Now, everything was back to normal, both inside the base and out. Everything was running to all the regular, basic routines, day in, day out. It was nice to be orderly for a change...even if it was a little dull.

The hallways outside her office were quiet as Carbine got up from her desk and crossed the room, where she put away a stack of papers in a file cabinet and pushed the weighty metal drawer shut--and then she felt a tap on her shoulder.

In an instant she had whipped out her blaster and spun around to level it between the ears of whoever was standing behind her, and all before she'd fully comprehended the fact that someone had crept into her office in the brief span of time it took her to move between her desk and the cabinet.

Despite the barrel pointing at his head, the golden-furred rat showed no reaction other than to impassively blink his dark eyes. "Well, hello to you, too."

Withholding a groan, Carbine thrust her blaster back into its holster. "Nitro, what the hell are you doing here?" she demanded wearily.

The underdweller, as he and the other rats who lived deep beneath the surface of Mars were now known, merely shrugged his shoulders before slipping his hands into the pockets of his faded jeans. "Just came to visit my little girl," he responded mildly. "It's still okay if I do that, right?"

"Yes," said Carbine, trying not to bristle. "It's fine. Just don't sneak up on me."

Aside from the fact that they were short-staffed, the benefits of letting Ashlin work here at the base as a medical assistant were twofold. For one thing, it let everyone see what she was really like up close, and for another, it allowed Carbine to keep an eye on her. Make sure nobody messed with her. Generally speaking, Nitro's visits weren't a bother...even though other underdweller rats had a habit of wandering into the base with him--young ones, mostly. Young, frisky ones, who flirted recklessly and shamelessly with female staff members, particularly young nurses. Nurses who had a habit of mysteriously disappearing whenever the rats were prowling the base, only to reappear just as mysteriously with a telltale flush in their cheeks.

It looked like Nitro was alone for a change, and after giving her a wry salute, he left her office as quietly as he had come. Carbine returned to her desk and sorted through more paperwork for the next few hours, until finally she pushed her chair back and stretched in relief. Not that her work was done for the day, but at least the remaining tasks required her to stand up and move around for a change.

Her relief was short-lived. She had only taken a few steps down the hall outside her office when the sound of a male voice reached her ears--a male voice that was impossible to mistake and instantly stirred up memories that she had worked hard for the last eighteen months or so to forget. Her pace didn't waver, even though part of her cringed inwardly as she turned a corner, having no doubt in her mind about what kind of scene she was about to come across.

Because she recognized the tone that voice was using--not to mention recognized the voice that spoke in return, in the same playful, teasing way. Carbine paused after she rounded the corner and glared at the pair of figures standing at the other end of the hall in annoyance...along with a pang of envy, to her further irritation.

Because the rich, husky voice that continued speaking in low tones--completely oblivious to her presence--belonged to her ex, and he was currently cuddled up against the new eternal flame in his life. She could only assume they were both visiting the base because they, like Nitro, had come to see Ashlin, but now they were aware of one thing, and one thing only: each other.

Tamerin had her back pressed against the wall, and Throttle was up so close to her you probably couldn't squeeze a piece of paper between them, his hands on her shoulders as he brought his face closer to hers, like he was trying to kiss her. His 'mate' kept ducking and twisting her head out of the way, with dancing eyes and frequent giggles. "Cut it out," she pleaded--unconvincingly--as she dodged again, "you've got root beer mouth."

"Just getting my revenge for all the times you've come home with cheese breath," Throttle told her with a grin loaded with mischief.

"Awww, come on--cheese is good for you."

"Is not."

"Is too. It strengthens your teeth and bones."

"Like you need to worry about cavities. And if cheese is health food, then root beer is even healthier."

"Is not. It has too much sugar and rots your digestive system."

Grunting, the tan mouse finally trapped her face between his hands and ended the silly argument, and Tamerin didn't put up too much of a fight. On the contrary, her body relaxed like she was in heaven as she wrapped her arms around his neck, and Throttle all but pinned her against the wall while he kissed her with heated passion, like he'd completely forgotten that they were in far from a private place.

Carbine could tell that as far as they were both concerned, there was no one else on all of Mars. They were lost in a world populated by two.

The pang of envy was back, but she couldn't really say that what Tamerin had now was once hers--not to this extent. When she and Throttle were together, that same passion he was displaying this very minute had definitely been present in their relationship, but just how intense--and how frequent--that passion was allowed to become had usually been limited. She had made sure of it, because she knew just how easy it was to get lost in that intensity, to forget everything else, which was unacceptable when she had other things to do.

Which was just one of the many reasons why life was so much easier for her now that she was single. She didn't have to worry about cutting an intimate moment short, or about having thoughts of someone distracting her from her duties, or about how much her significant other was annoyed by the fact that those duties came before everything and everyone else.

Most of the time she felt perfectly comfortable and at peace with the direction her life had taken, and with the choices she had made...but every once in a while--like when she stumbled across her ex and his new squeeze making out like there was no tomorrow--a couple of things would bug her. Like what the hell made the white-skinned female so special that she got to have it both ways?

As if they knew what she was thinking--not that they had the slightest clue she was watching them--the pair stopped groping each other as Throttle broke away from her lips and nuzzled her small ear. "I think we should see where this is headed at home," he said lowly, his voice at its most seductive.

Smiling coyly, Tamerin tightened her arms and peered up at him in such a way--like she wasn't as tall as she really was, and he was actually the one who was stronger, physically. "Want me to carry you?" Throttle asked with a grin.

"Yes, please," was the sweet response, paired with another giggle.

Carbine didn't have a clue how she did it, and she sure as hell didn't want to learn. But the toned Imeeran had no trouble whatsoever with dropping her usual poise of a leader and fighter and morphing into the blushing damsel, and she could do it in the blink of an eye, like it was effortless. Carbine wouldn't have thought her ex was into that kind of thing, but she'd learned in the months she'd had to watch them together that he ate it up. He liked acting the hero, and scooping his lady up in his arms like she was something delicate, while she cuddled adoringly against his chest as he carried her away.

After they were gone, as oblivious of her as ever, Carbine had to shake her head for a second. It was no wonder to her now why she and Throttle didn't work out--not that it had ever really been. She had figured out a long time ago, many months before they finally broke up, that he had wanted things from her that she just couldn't give. He never spoke about them outright, but over time she had started to see the signs--and the proof of her suspicions were visible each and every day, displayed in the form of the life he had now. The life he had thrown together almost immediately after it ended between them...which either spoke volumes about how right Tamerin was for him, or how wrong _she_ had been for him. Or maybe it was both.

Because in just a few short weeks following their breakup, he had all of the things she had grown to suspect he wanted. He set up house with his new love, who put him on a pedestal and made him first in her life. And they had a kid, and so what if he was adopted? It still counted. It still proved that at the time they had split, Throttle had been ready to start a family, which was something there wasn't--and never would be--a time or a place for in her life.

Which wasn't to say that a tiny yet annoyingly vocal part of her didn't want that to change. Damn biological clock.

Giving her head another shake, she started down the hall again--just as someone brushed their fingertips against her elbow. The reflex to draw and aim sprung up just like before, but she didn't leap into action this time, because she'd sensed someone was there a split-second before she felt the touch. She knew who it was before she turned around, having been around this particular rat before.

He always had an energy surrounding him, palpable and electric, to the point where you could feel it just by being close to him. It was like stepping outside after a big storm--or during one, depending on what kind of mood he was in.

That shiver of energy had been her only indication he was there, because like all the other underdweller rats, he didn't make a sound when he didn't want to. Not a rustle of clothing, not the hint of a footstep, not a whisper of breath. It was strange--irritating--on so many levels, because it violated everyone's perception of how life on Mars was supposed to be. When it came to who was the fastest and the quietest, everyone knew the order Martian races were placed in. Sand raiders were the loudest, the clumsiest, the slowest on their feet. Rats were quicker, but they lacked finesse. Mice had always cornered the market on being the swiftest--whether they were on foot or on wheels--the most agile, the most covert.

Now they had to settle for a distant second place. When it came to appearing and disappearing without so much as creaking the floor, underdweller rats were in a class all by themselves. It was a skill honed by their years of living in complete secrecy, but even now that everyone knew they existed, their silent ways hadn't changed.

Despite his size, the rat she found standing behind her was the most silent of them all. Even when you knew he was there (after he deliberately made his presence known) he was still quieter than a ghost--and lightning fast, moving from one side of you to the other in less time than it took to turn your head. Carbine had to admit, she found it a little unnerving.

Fortunately, now that she knew he was there, Poison didn't move, other than to casually fold his sinewy arms and lean back against the wall. Like most underdweller rats, he dressed in jeans, combat boots and snug leather vests, while his personal accessories were typically a little...sinister. She never saw him without at least a dozen knives attached to the leather band slung over his torso, along with numerous small explosive devices--and she didn't even want to get started on everything he had strapped to his belt. His favorite piece was a large knife with a saw-like blade that he kept snugged around his right thigh, whenever it wasn't out in his hand. Sharpening it so much had to be for show...because he couldn't possibly use it enough to dull it that quickly.

A rat playing mind games...typical.

Hand on her hip, she looked up at him for a long moment (he was at least as tall as Modo so she didn't have a choice except to tilt her head back if she wanted to make eye-contact) but he didn't say anything. He just looked at her...well, more like watched her. That was kind of his thing. When he wasn't completely ignoring everybody around him, he was watching everything with a look in his lone eye that made you think that he literally saw everything--even things you didn't want him to.

When he continued to stay silent, even though she was glaring at him, Carbine started to turn away with a shake of her head. "I have other things I need to do, but Nitro might still be hanging around somewhere, so if you'll excuse me..."

"I'm not here to see Nitro."

Well, no kidding, Carbine thought as she paused to send him a weary look. They probably saw each other every day. "Then what do you want?" she asked impatiently.

Seeing how he didn't appear to be in a talkative mood today--not that he was anything close to the chatty type--she wasn't expecting much of a response...but instead she got one whose meaning was impossible to mistake. 

With his arms still folded and his stance relaxed, the towering rat silently shifted his head, cocking it at her in a way that caused him to look down the length of his long muzzle at her. His lone eye was narrowed a touch, the heavy brow above it arched tellingly. The corner of his mouth lifted in a way where she couldn't tell if he was being smug, sly, condescending, or all three. But the look of 'you _know_ what I want' was clear and plain.

It was a look that made her feel insulted--and uncomfortably vulnerable. That sharp yellow gaze was one that cut right through you.

Filling with a scorching irritation that spread through her face until it burned, she fixed him with the look of death she had turned grown mice white with. "You are barking up the _wrong_ tree, pal."

She pivoted on her heel and marched away, boots clacking loudly. She had almost reached the far end of the long hallway when the atmosphere around her suddenly changed. As the distance between the two of them grew she could still feel his gaze on her--and then it was gone, and she was hit with the feeling that she was alone. It didn't seem possible that someone so big could disappear that quickly and quietly, but she slowed her pace and took a look over her shoulder. The hallway behind her was empty and silent, like no one had ever been there at all.

Part of her was relieved, but the rest of her was rattled because she knew that if he could vanish that easily, he could reappear every bit as easily.

This was proven true a few days later--after she had pushed that afternoon from her mind and all but forgotten the whole thing, when she suddenly felt like someone was watching her. It couldn't be, she thought, but she turned around and there he was, casually studying her from across the room.

It went on like that, on and off for days. She would be deeply involved in something and then he'd turn up, like he'd been there the whole time. Sometimes she'd ignore him, sometimes she'd scoff and stomp away. But she never heard him come or go, no matter where he popped up--which was more than a little unsettling, because no one else ever heard him either, and he rarely showed up when someone else was around. And no one ever commented that he seemed to be hanging around a lot lately, so that meant the only reason she ever saw him was because he _wanted_ her to see him.

It sure made her glad that underdweller rats weren't their enemies. They weren't exactly sworn allies, but they didn't have any reason to distrust or take measures against each other either. And a damn good thing, too; she knew that every other underdweller rat was just as stealthy as Poison, and if they were able to enter any other place else just as easily as they entered their base, then they didn't have a prayer keeping them out.

Which wasn't to say that she was comfortable with rats hanging around on a regular basis, even if they weren't up to anything other than getting playful with the nurses. But she never saw any of the others except when Nitro was visiting Ashlin. The only one who came and went completely alone was Poison.

After enduring over a week of catching glimpses of him watching her around corners, or having him pop up the second she turned around to do something and evaporate the second she looked away, Carbine was done. She found him standing outside her office one afternoon, leaning against the wall with his arms folded casually, just like the other day. He was waiting right across from her open office door, yet she had no idea he was there until she all but walked into him, his sable fur like a shadow. He could have been there for only a second or two, or he could have been there for hours. Watching her.

With her teeth set so hard they hurt, she strode up to him and, eyes blazing, lifted her finger and jabbed it hard into his broad chest. "Maybe you didn't hear me the first time," she all but growled, "but you are _not_ going to get what you're looking for from me. Your friends seem to have an easy time with the nurses around here, so why don't you--"

Her harsh order never finished, because the feeling of his long fingers suddenly wrapping around her hand stopped her, her gaze dropping to look in mute surprise. She never saw him move; one breath his hand was tucked under his folded arms, the next breath it had trapped hers--and she had no chance of freeing it. Like a pulse of electricity, she could feel the sheer strength that existed inside him, to the point she almost swore she could feel it humming from his fingers and into her own. And those fingers were like stone; she'd need a hammer to break loose.

And yet his grip didn't hurt. Just like the time he'd put her over his shoulder and carried her to safety, that raw power he wielded stayed comfortably contained, like a wild animal barricaded on the other side of a fence. But Carbine could feel that that barricade--like her fingers--was flimsy, an illusion of security. Any time it wanted to, that wild animal could break loose and crush everything in its path. It stayed contained by choice.

With gentleness--and ease--her jabbing finger was tucked into her fist, her hand lowered to her side. The single yellow eye looking down at her seemed to flare around the edges, like lightning.

"You've misread my intentions."

He let go. Carbine felt a prickling spread over her skin underneath her fur; she _hated_ being told she'd made a mistake. "Then why do you keep following me?" she demanded, speaking with almost the same level of venom as before.

His gaze didn't waver. "I enjoy watching you work."

Carbine raised her eyebrows, incredulous. "Why?"

She really wished that he would move around more. When someone didn't speak much, she could usually read their body language to get an idea what they were thinking and feeling, but he wouldn't even give her that. He just kept looking at her intently, though the corners of his mouth perked up just a little, softening his stony expression. "I find you interesting."

For the briefest of seconds his eye lifted, giving a small sweep of the area before returning to her face. "This whole place is interesting to me. We don't have ranks or an army in our society."

Carbine was surprised again. "Don't you?"

She would have never guessed after seeing what efficient fighters they were, and how both he and Nitro had shown themselves to be capable, precise leaders.

"We never had reason to form one. The population in our city is small, so everyone knows who is and isn't capable of taking charge. And up until recently our lives depended on secrecy. In order to ensure that we can defend ourselves from all sides in the event of our city being breached, every last citizen is armed and trained for combat."

Carbine grew quiet for a moment, forehead lining in curiosity. That was the most she'd ever heard him speak at one time--and she was intrigued by what he'd just said. "So, basically you're saying that your whole population is militia?"

"Call it what you like."

She was looking at him with new interest now, the tension and anger she'd felt a minute ago fading as she placed a hand on her hip. "Would you like me to show you how we do things around here, then?"

She wasn't exactly sure why she was offering--maybe part of her hoped that once his curiosity of their operations was sated, he would go away and she could concentrate on her work again.

As usual, Poison didn't respond with words, but his answer was clear. He flashed her a smile--not a sly smirk, but a real, genuine smile. He always looked so sullen Carbine wouldn't have thought he was capable of such a warm gesture. "Lead the way, Boss."

* * *

Giving Poison a tour of the base didn't result in him not hanging around anymore. If anything, Carbine saw even more of him over the next few weeks. And thanks to her guidance, he started popping up in more places than before, and she even saw him talking to some of her men from time to time. At least it didn't feel like he was personally stalking her...as much.

He really did seem to enjoy watching her work. Sometimes after she became aware of him he wouldn't disappear, instead lingering at a respectful distance. He rarely said anything, but occasionally she would feel the weight of his gaze as she went from one job to the next for ages.

She usually didn't acknowledge his presence beyond making brief eye contact...because she still wasn't one-hundred-percent convinced that she had, as he'd put it, misread his intentions toward her. If all he was truly interested in was learning how military operated, then why did he only follow _her_ around? She wasn't the only commanding officer at the base he could observe.

But if there was one thing she had learned from seeing him around so much, it was that he only looked at things that interested him. His discreet movements and actions were still difficult to read, but she had figured out that if something didn't spark his solitary eye's attention, it would skim right over it like it wasn't there. This included mice who tried to strike up a conversation with him, fellow rats who said hello when they happened to drop by the base when he was there--anyone or anything he didn't care about was ignored.

He sure never ignored her--even when she blatantly ignored _him_ , or got impatient with all his hovering and told him to get lost. He would always comply when she did...but he always came back. Over time, she started to notice a change in the way he watched her, too. It was subtle--almost undetectable--but she would swear that whenever she met his gaze there was a light in his eye that wasn't there before, the corners of his mouth lifted in an almost-smile that she had a funny feeling broke free the instant she looked away.

She didn't know what it meant, but she knew she didn't have time for whatever it was. Never one to bother with being tactful when it was quicker to just be direct, when she almost bumped into Poison as she was coming out of the medical wing one day, she asked him bluntly, "Am I really _that_ interesting to watch?"

Her question seemed to amuse him. It was hard to tell; he wasn't looking directly down at her and he had his head turned to the side a little, so she was looking at his eyepatch instead of his eye. She didn't know what had happened when he lost his right eye, but judging by the long scar that cut its way down the side of his face, it must have been brutal.

"To me. Yes."

Carbine shot him a suspicious look. "Why? I'm just doing my job. Nothing special."

Poison finally looked at her, meeting her gaze with a smile that juxtaposed her puzzled frown. It was like the smile he had given her the day she said she'd show him around the base...but there was something different about it. It was warm and familiar. Friendly. Wanting.

She was sure about that last one, and it made a bubble of irritation start to rise inside her. "I disagree," he told her, before she had a chance to say anything. "You must be special to do what you do. Your work takes true strength and courage. Uncompromising determination."

Taken aback, Carbine opened her mouth, then shut it again. She had no idea what to say. She didn't get compliments very often, but Poison's sole yellow eye was clearly full of admiration.

And wanting. Definitely wanting.

She scowled. "I thought you said--"

"I did. Things change."

"What things?" she demanded testily, her irritation mounting rapidly.

Poison merely went on smiling, unfazed by her anger. "I know you better now."

"Better?" Carbine repeated caustically. "You don't know the first thing about me."

He looked amused again. "Don't I? I've watched you immerse yourself in your work. I've watched how frustrated you get when the day isn't going well. I've watched the way you sit back and smile in satisfaction when it is. And I've seen how, when you think no one is looking, you relax with your feet on your desk."

His smile deepened and, though just like before she never saw him move, he reached over and lifted her chin just a hair before pulling his hand away. "It's safe to say that I've watched your actions when you're at your best and at your worst. And you know what they say about actions and words. I've seen more than enough of your actions to know all I need to know--especially the most important thing."

"And what's that?" Carbine asked warily.

"You're strong. Strength is a must."

"Why?" the General asked.

Poison's smile turned thin, his eye narrowing a little. "I don't make the same mistake twice."

"I see," said Carbine, even though she had no idea what he meant. "I need to get back to work, so let's make this quick. Just what is it you want from me?"

She wasn't sure she really wanted to have that question answered, but she'd never figure it out herself if she didn't ask. As much as she had seen Poison over the last few weeks, she didn't feel like she knew or understood him any better than she did back when they first met out on the battlefield, when he rescued her from her own recklessness.

And yet she got the uncomfortable feeling he knew her every bit as well as he was suggesting he did. That knowing stare of his spoke volumes about what he had seen and heard--probably things she didn't want him or anyone else seeing. It made her feel funny--vulnerable and exposed--and when he suddenly gripped her chin again, a shiver ran through her. It felt like his energy was humming through his fingers, penetrating her fur and running along her skin, like an electric current. It made the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end.

With his eye still narrowed and his eyebrow arched--not unlike that suggestive look he had given her a few weeks ago--he brought his thumb to her mouth. With gentleness and an ease that suggested the move was familiar to the point of natural to him, he nudged at her front incisors a little--just enough to prod her mouth open. Just enough to make room for the tip of his thumb, which he slowly traced along her bottom lip. Another shiver ran through her, rippling clear down to her toes.

Carbine jerked back and slapped his hand away at the same time. "No," she said sharply.

Poison didn't react--or if he did, she didn't get a chance to see it. He had already turned away and was starting down the corridor. Carbine stared in surprise. "Where are you going?"

He paused to glance over his shoulder at her, expression stoic. "You said no. See you later, Boss."

And then he was gone, vanishing from sight as she blinked in confusion. Around her, the reality she hadn't realized had slipped away from her awareness snapped back into place; she could hear footsteps in the corridors, muffled voices beyond the closed door behind her, the quiet hum of machinery. She didn't notice until they came back to her attention again, but for a moment those sounds had ceased to exist.

After giving herself a shake, Carbine jerked into motion, marching back to her office. Along the way her mind puzzled over what had just happened, even though she told it not to. She said 'no' and that was it? He wasn't going to argue with her, or get annoyed, or try and coax her to change her mind? Thinking about it left her distracted for the rest of the day, and for several days to come--especially when she spotted Poison's towering figure still hanging around just like he always did. She expected him to approach her again, or to say something, but he didn't.

She was wrong. Poison didn't play games.

Knowing this made her feel better, because it would save her from a lot of hassle. Namely all the problems getting involved with someone drudged up--even if that someone's interest only appeared to be physical. Even then, someone would expect her to pay attention to them, and meet them at certain places at certain times, and get frustrated when she told them that she could do nothing of the sort.

And then it hit her. Poison had made it clear that he had watched her enough to know all about her--or at least the kind of things about her that he wanted to know. He already knew that her work came first. That fun and recreation, friends and loved ones came a distant second and could end up dropped at any given moment if something more important came up. So he must also know that a significant other was no exception, and if he was suddenly interested, and telling her that he wanted to kiss her in such a clever little way, even after he had assured her that he wasn't interested before...then that could only mean that was exactly how he wanted it.

A strictly physical, no strings attached kind of thing. As soon as the thought formed, Carbine hastily tried to push it out of her head and concentrate on what she was doing...but instead she felt a funny fluttering deep inside her. Just how long had it been since she got to enjoy that kind of thing, anyway? She honestly couldn't remember. Over time, fooling around in the bedroom had become more of an obligation than something pleasurable. When she was younger it was a different story...but time and war had changed her.

Throttle had changed too, but not nearly as much as she had. They had started to grow apart long before they finally broke up, and her responsibilities and devotion to her duties was mostly to blame. And while she knew there were plenty of females who would have killed to be in her position, for her, it had only been a problem that Throttle was a cuddler.

She just didn't have the time for that kind of frivolity. For the last year or so of their relationship, she had adopted a strict screw-and-go policy. She knew it had bugged him, and he especially hadn't enjoyed how she never let him be on top, or even put his arms around her, but she couldn't take the risk of him--or her--getting carried away and losing track of time. Someone who didn't want anything more wouldn't mind as much. Wouldn't complain when she hopped out of bed right after climaxing and pulled her clothes back on, or grumble in annoyance when she wouldn't take them off in the first place, or refused to stick around for an extra five minutes or so for a little post-coitus cuddling. Someone who knew how busy she was knew better than to expect more than what she had time to give.

Not that she had any plans whatsoever to start screwing a rat--especially a rat she knew absolutely nothing about. And even if she was willing to get involved with him anyway since they would remain strictly unemotionally attached, she really couldn't say that she found him attractive. Although she wouldn't go so far as to say she found him _un_ attractive either...just a hell of a lot different from what she was used to.

Like any rat, he felt coarser to the touch than a mouse. And he was so tall and bulky--not that she didn't know mice who boasted a similar build, but he had a kind of overpowering presence that made him seem even bigger than he already was. His voice was deep and low, and just scratchy enough to sound a little harsh--or a lot harsh, if he was in a foul mood. She never heard him raise his voice, though. More than once she'd caught him losing his temper with some of the more rambunctious underdweller rats, and he usually snarled them back into their place with five words or less. Carbine couldn't tell if they were so meekly obedient when he started snapping because they feared him or respected him--or maybe both.

He was the kind of being who could easily intimidate others--if they let him. Well, she wasn't the kind of person who let _anyone_ intimidate her, and she wasn't about to let anyone new beguile their way into her bed. Although he never approached her again after she refused his subtle advance. And now that she had thought about it, a brief, to the point encounter was something she could easily make time for when she was off duty.

It wasn't a completely undesirable idea. She didn't find him handsome, but there were still things about him that were appealing. He had such broad, powerful hands, yet she'd learned firsthand that he was capable of such a gentle touch. And he was in terrific shape, toned and defined from top to bottom, his core rippling with muscle that was visible through the thickness of his glossy black fur.

Wait. Was she _really_ considering this?

She thought about it a little more--stopped what she was doing and thought about it hard and seriously--and realized that she wasn't. She couldn't. Which wasn't to say that the idea of a completely no strings relationship--a non-relationship, to be exact--wasn't a tempting one, especially since she kept stumbling onto scenes like she did weeks ago. Throttle and Tamerin came to the base frequently to visit Ashlin, sometimes separately, but more often as a twosome. And whenever they were together, the love and attraction that existed between them was obvious to all even when they weren't groping each other in the hallways.

It was the same when Modo came to see his small wife--though the pair were much more discreet when conveying their affection for one another. The love was still clearly there. And everybody knew how badly they wanted kids, so they would probably having a sizable brood before too much longer. And of course there was the young underdweller rats and their unabashed flirting.

Although none of them dared flirt with _her_. They knew better than that--knew that she was unattainable. Part of her knew she should be glad that she could potentially be left alone for the rest of her life...but another part of her felt keenly left out, knowing all too well how much passion was going on around her. Pairing that with the knowledge that someone _did_ want her, and understood and respected the way her life had to operate...

It was oh-so-tempting. Yet at the same time it was a subject she knew she wouldn't touch, because...annoying as the revelation was when it came to her, she realized that somewhere deep inside her, she still had the same ideals she did when she was young, responsibility-free and very much in love. She wouldn't sleep with someone she didn't love and had a full relationship with.

Still, it seemed a perfect waste to avoid Poison's company completely when he was aware that he could end up kicked aside at any given moment. And he was okay with that? A waste indeed.

So finally, after it felt like her internal debate had been going on for years, Carbine made up her mind. She came across Poison later that same afternoon, hanging around casually in an empty briefing room. Not wasting a single word, she marched right up to him and said, "Just so we're clear, I'm not going to feel bad about it if I have to run off while we're in the middle of a conversation. I'm not going to ever promise to meet you for dinner. Don't waste your time telling me about important dates or marking your calendar with something we've done, because I'm never going to remember. I'm just not that girl."

She paused, then hastily added, "I'm also not that girl who spreads her legs. So you can forget about that too--that is _not_ on the table. Am I understood?"

While she spoke, Poison stood silently, arms crossed casually as usual. When she finished and waited expectantly for his response, he didn't speak up right away. His eye was searching her face, her eyes, like he was looking deeply for something. Checking the sincerity of her words? Somehow, she didn't have any doubt that he could see clear through pretense and lies. It made her shiver.

"Is that all?"

Carbine blinked once. Had she said all she needed to say? She was pretty sure that she had. "Yes."

The lone word seemed to hang in the air. She had meant it as an affirmation...but it suddenly occurred to her that it could also grant permission.

The corner of Poison's mouth lifted. "Does this mean it's all right for me to kiss you now?"

"I..."

Carbine was surprised--which was something she seemed to be a lot when she was around him. She hadn't been expecting him to ask that. She wasn't aware that guys even bothered to ask first--all the ones she knew usually just did it. Her surprise left her feeling taken aback--flustered--but she quickly composed herself.

Expression and tone casual, she said, "If you feel you must. Just make it qu--"

Her words stuck in her throat, because she suddenly found herself looking down at him, her feet dangling inches from the floor below. Poison's smile as he held her hoisted above his head was sly, satisfied...and was that a look of possessiveness?

Her last thought was that it had better not be--and then she was being drawn forward, enveloped in his solid arms, pressed firm and close against his hard chest. The warmth radiating from his thick fur was warmer than a mouse; the thump of his heart reverberated through her ribcage. The charge-like strength she felt emanating from the powerful limbs wrapped around her, and from the chest her slim hands had flattened against, seemed to consume her. It took her breath away.

It all happened so fast, she wasn't sure exactly when he cupped the back of her head in his large hand and pressed his mouth over hers. She was expecting him to be quick and forceful about it...but he wasn't. He took his time--almost like he was as unfamiliar with the shape of her mouth as she was with his. It felt kind of funny, what with his larger nose brushing against her own, the sides of his mouth stretched along his lengthy muzzle.

Still...she couldn't think of a reason to complain. She couldn't think, period; her eyes had shut by themselves and her heart was thumping soundly in her chest. She felt light-headed and dizzy in a way that she never thought she would again. Her feet were so far from the floor, it felt like she was floating, even though she was securely anchored in his arms--and then it felt like she was falling.

No, not falling; just being lowered to the ground. Poison was setting her to her feet and pulling away. He'd kept it quick like she'd wanted--and her reaction to his compliance startled her. She felt a flare of disappointment that had her clinging to him, her fingers curling around and gripping clumps of his fur. If she didn't know any better, she would swear she made a sound as his mouth left hers--an unhappy one.

Poison's silence and expression gave nothing away about what he thought of her behavior. Carbine was already silently berating herself for it and forcing her racing heart to calm down as she pulled her hands away.

Solemnly, Poison smoothed her hair back and straightened the front of her uniform before turning and heading for the door. "See you soon, Boss," he called over his shoulder.

And then he was gone.

* * *

Over the next few weeks, Carbine didn't notice any change in Poison's behavior toward her. He acted just the same as always, showing up when he felt like it and not ever when she expected him to. Which was good; it showed that he was sincere about not attempting to get anything more than something physical out of her. And he didn't seem to mind that she wouldn't give him that, either--beyond passionate kisses when no one was looking, that is. No matter how sullen or indifferent he looked, if she had a minute or two to spare, all it took to catch his attention was a look. He had a heat that could flare up in an instant. And every time he drew her into his arms and let that heat flow over her, it left her breathless.

It was more than enough to stoke things on her end, to the point where she felt frustrated with that idealistic female block that existed in her heart. But as time went on and it grew easier to let herself be consumed by the fire he carried, she wondered if she couldn't coax herself to compromise a little. She wasn't ever going to be in a real relationship again--she knew that--and she wasn't ever going to love him, or maybe ever really like him...but she at least wanted to know him a little before she took things any further.

Learning more about him wasn't easy. Underdweller rats were secretive and silent by nature, and of all the ones she had met, Poison felt like he had the hardest walls around him. He wasn't going to spill his secrets--not about himself or the life his people led. Those secrets were so securely locked away, whenever she debated asking him something, she had no idea where to start. It was like approaching an invisible enemy; no clear path to take in order to strike.

She casually put out a few feelers once or twice but got nothing but stony silence in return. But instead of getting irritated, it dawned on her that she could easily switch tactics. If a direct approach didn't work, an indirect one might.

There were two beings who probably saw Poison more often than she did, and one of them worked right here at the base. So one afternoon she casually strolled into the medical wing, where she soon tracked down Ashlin, busily putting clean sheets on a vacant bed. And as luck would have it Tamerin was nearby, perched on a stool and sipping from a bottle of fruit juice.

The two females greeted her casually, unaware of what was on her mind; Carbine kept her tone equally casual and got straight to the point. "How well do either of you know some of the rats from the undercity?"

"Not too many aside from my dad," was Ashlin's answer. "Why do you ask?"

"Just curious about the ones that wander in here whenever they feel like it. I can't help but wonder, since they sneak past our security so easily."

The slender Martian chuckled and fluffed the bed pillow. "They're harmless. Just playful."

"They keep their hands to themselves--if you tell them to," Tamerin added lightly.

Carbine paused for a second, then plunged ahead. "What about that really big one?" she said, being deliberately vague. "He seems to hang around a lot."

Ashlin merely smiled at her description. "You mean Poison? He can be kind of scary sometimes, but he's actually really nice. He and my father have been friends since they were kids."

"He's a pussycat," Tamerin put in, her tone and expression sly.

Laughing, Ashlin shot her a look. "I wouldn't go _that_ far."

"I would. He is around you, anyway."

Ashlin laughed again, looking embarrassed. The two of them continued to talk as she went about her tasks, but Carbine was already withdrawing into her own thoughts. She could understand why someone would want to treat Ashlin carefully--and maybe spoil her just a little, after all she'd been through. If Poison softened when he was around her, then that proved that the hints of gentleness she had seen from him weren't just an act. That was good to know.

Still, it didn't really tell her anything she didn't already know. She had figured out for herself from all the times she had seen them together that he and Nitro were close. And was she really trying to uncover his past just so she'd feel more comfortable with the idea of sleeping with him?

When she put it into perspective...it sounded so ridiculous she quickly shoved the idea from her mind and told herself to forget about it. History had made it clear that there was no time or place for anything of the sort in her life. She was just going to have to let go of all instinct and desire. Turn that part of her own nature off. Which would have been an easier thing to do, if not for the fact that lately when she spotted Poison lurking around, her heart sped up a little. Something inside her felt a little lighter, a little happier. She'd come to enjoy his quiet company, and even after she told herself it was time to give up physical contact of any kind, she never once told him no when she found herself being pulled into those powerful arms of his. Whether it was verbally or with a look, or a soft touch, he always asked for her permission first.

Carbine found that she was enjoying being in his arms more and more. It was different, but his heated kisses were still a pleasure to receive. She'd come to like the coarser feel of his fur. She even kind of liked the way he smelled, richer and muskier than a mouse. He always smelled of desert wind and late night rides, of warm sand and mystery. And maybe, she reasoned one day as they shared a quiet moment in the back of her office, the occasional embrace and passionate kiss wouldn't hurt. After all, she'd told him not to expect anything more, and he'd never pressed.

A routine of safe physical activity and casual conversation was something she could grow used to. She could allow it, because it wasn't dangerous. Neither of them were getting deeply involved. She'd make sure that never happened.

And then one evening, as she was just about to head out for something to eat for a change, Carbine came across a group of young guards apparently in the middle of a celebration. Amid happy cheers and laughter, they were pouring something pale gold and bubbling into small glasses and making toasts. They were all off duty, so Carbine didn't scold any of them as she approached. "What's the occasion?" she asked instead.

"We just got a message from Rimfire," one of them told her happily, after swallowing his drink. "His baby was finally born."

Oh, right. It had been so long, Carbine had almost forgotten that the young, off duty due to injury guard was ready to be a father. She sure didn't envy Imeeran females; being pregnant for an entire year had to be a pain.

And yet, thinking about it made that damn biological clock of hers start to tick loudly. "What did they have?" she wondered, as another round of glasses were drained.

"A girl. He promised to bring us pictures later."

Nodding absently, Carbine quietly excused herself before hurrying away. She was pretty sure that was all of them now; virtually everyone she knew had a family. Young lives coming together, creating new ones...and one factor they all shared was that they were happy. Tonight, Carbine felt anything but.

The sun had only just set, so there was plenty of afterglow to see by as she trudged in the opposite direction of the city. She wasn't in the mood for dinner anymore, and she really wasn't in the mood for company right now--especially not from someone who was clinging to their spouse, or cradling a gurgling baby. Her mind knew, understood, and accepted all the reasons why those things would never be hers, but sometimes, her heart would forget.

Fortunately, the only other person who seemed to be out tonight was someone she knew didn't want or need those things either. She came across him at the outskirts of home territory, perched on a ledge before the ground broke away sharply, leaving a good twenty foot drop below. Along the horizon straight ahead were miles and miles of craggy mountains, with many more miles of sandy hills and dunes beneath them. Poison didn't look up as Carbine drew near, but he didn't act like he wanted her to get lost, so she quietly sat beside him, her eyes on the sky.

Poison was doing the same, though he had a bottle in his hand that he brought to his mouth from time to time. The glass it was made from was dark, and if she had to guess, Carbine would say it was a lot stronger than the celebratory champagne the guards had been guzzling. Smiling tiredly, she held out her hand. "You mind?"

He wordlessly passed the bottle to her; she took a cautious sip, then almost coughed as an exotic-flavored liquid burned into her mouth and down her throat. It was very strong, but rich, with a smooth and pleasant aftertaste. She dared another sip, then passed the bottle back. Poison took a long swig.

She was sitting to his left, so she was able to see his eye as she gazed at his profile, but his expression was unreadable. She couldn't tell if he was upset, angry, or just wanted to take a night off to enjoy a good drink. If he wanted her to leave, he didn't show it...and as the minutes ticked by, she gradually got the feeling that he didn't want her to. His stiff posture had eased a little after she first arrived, like her presence was calming to him.

It made her think. She had wondered from the start: why her? Why, out of any other female that he would undoubtedly have an easier time with? She had already asked him, but he hadn't really answered--not in a way that she understood. 

_You're strong... Strength is a must... I don't make the same mistake twice..._

Realization came slowly, but when it did, it made her stomach sink. She unconsciously hugged herself as a chill settled over her. The night wasn't a warm one, but that wasn't why she suddenly felt cold. The silence lingered for a little longer, and then, very softly, she asked, "Who was she?"

Poison didn't pretend to misunderstand. He took another long drink, then set the bottle aside. His gaze was still skyward; she could see the light of the stars as they slowly came out reflected in its yellow surface. "Her name was Lynette."

He fell silent again, and for a moment Carbine thought that was all he was going to say, but then he lowered his head a little, his gaze turning distant. "In a lot of ways, she was like Ashlin. Small, sweet, soft-spoken. Always taking care of everyone around her. The big difference is that Ashlin can fight, too. She's capable of defending herself when she has to."

From the bitterness that crept into his tone, Carbine could easily guess that the same couldn't be said for this Lynette. She was almost afraid to ask what happened, but Poison continued without her prompting him. "When we first decided to go underground, there were a lot of rats who thought we were crazy. We tried to persuade as many as we could to join us, but the war was only getting worse up here, so we eventually gave up and put them on our list of enemies. Since we weren't with them, they considered us to be against them, but a handful still tried to convince them to stop fighting and join us. Lynette was the one who tried the hardest."

He gave his head a small shake, scoffing quietly. "She sneaked up here every chance she got. I begged her not to, but...her heart was so big, she never worried about herself. Never thought about how her good deeds put her life at risk. And in the end that's exactly what got her killed. She had her throat cut by the very rats she was trying to help."

Carbine tightened her arms around herself. "I'm so sorry," she whispered.

Poison shook his head again. "I didn't take it very well. When I found out I was ready to head up and make everyone who had a hand in what happened to her pay. And I don't think I would have stopped there, if Nitro hadn't stopped me from doing anything stupid in the first place. I doubt I would be here now if it wasn't for him."

In her heart, Carbine felt an ache of understanding. Of compassion. She tried to smile, but her throat felt too thick. "So, you're good friends?"

It was obvious that they were...but she didn't know what else to say.

"If Lynette were alive, he and I would be brothers by now."

When the meaning behind his words sunk in, her understanding grew. She felt bad for him--for both of them. She absently fumbled for and took another sip from the bottle.

"I could have told him it wouldn't be any better with Shauni," Poison went on, as Carbine covered a small cough. "I did, in fact. But he was so crazy for her he didn't listen."

Carbine recognized the name. "Ashlin's mother."

He nodded. "They were only kids when they met. Sixteen and seventeen and completely convinced that their relationship would somehow overcome everything else. Anyone using their head could see that it was doomed from day one; no mouse has ever set foot in our city, and any rat seen near mouse territory was shot at on sight, no matter where he was from. He handled it better than I did after he lost her, but..."

He paused to shift his position a little, then sighed heavily. "He never got over it. She meant everything to him. And wherever she is now, she has his heart with her. He can't love anyone else and he doesn't want to."

As she listened to this sad tale, it occurred to her that she had never heard Poison talk so much before. She wondered absently if the bottle hadn't helped loosen his tongue. She hadn't had much herself, but her eyelids were starting to feel heavy; she covered a yawn.

And even though her mind felt drowsy, a thought was creeping into her head. A thought that maybe Poison wasn't telling her all this just because. Maybe the loss of someone they loved wasn't the only thing he and Nitro had in common. If that were so, then he would be even safer to be with than she thought.

She covered another yawn. "How old were you?"

"Eighteen."

Carbine felt her sleepy eyes blink open in surprise. Just eighteen back when Shauni lost her life in the desert and Ashlin was eventually found by Tamerin? He was actually younger than she had assumed he was, then. Not that he looked old, but...she had just assumed.

She wasn't really thinking clearly anymore. The night was wearing on and getting colder, and before she realized what she was doing she had leaned against his side, seeking the warmth of his thicker fur. To her surprise, he automatically put his arm around her and drew her close to him, like he had been waiting for her to do that.

Neither of them spoke after that. Enough had been said; she understood several things she didn't before. She understood why, after over twenty years of living without anyone having a clue about them, Nitro had revealed the existence of the underdweller rats, all for the sake of his daughter. And she was pretty sure she understood now why Poison was willing to enter a relationship that involved no ties, no emotions, no attachments.

She should have felt relieved. Comforted. But instead she felt hurt. Not for herself...for him. It was probably just the alcohol at work, but she found herself twisting in his grasp, reaching to turn his face toward her. He didn't resist as she tugged him closer, her mouth eager to meet his. If anything, her touch seemed to bring him comfort. She felt an air of contentment around him as she tightened her arms, hugging his large frame close and tight to her. She wasn't sure how long they sat out there; it didn't matter. They both needed someone they could find solace in tonight.

Her mind felt fuzzy later as she walked back to the base alone. But her thoughts were still clear enough for her to think that whatever connection was forming between the two of them...it wasn't going to hurt anything, or anyone.

* * *

The next few months were quiet ones. The post-war routine had been set: keep things at the base organized and running smoothly, oversee repairs and rebuilding throughout the city, make sure their borders were secure. Everything had come together a lot faster than she ever thought it would, considering all the damage their planet had suffered. And the damage left over from the sand raider and surface rat attack would have taken a lot longer to deal with--if they hadn't had a little help, that is. But in the days that followed and for long after--all the way up to now, in fact--underdweller rats lent a hand whenever they could. Nitro hadn't been exaggerating when he told her that they weren't want for anything; they seemed to have no shortage of their own resources. They generously supplied them with tools and building materials and plenty of able-bodied workers--to say nothing of the resources and aid they had been gifted from Tamerin's people. And now, over a year later, their city was thriving and lively, and they had outposts in other areas that hinted at continued growth in the future.

Carbine would never have thought it possible, but seeing a rat walking their streets had become a regular occurrence these days. Some were leery of it, and some outright complained, but most, especially the ones who had fought and worked side by side with them, had come to understand and accept that underdweller rats were a different breed entirely. They had proven themselves strong, intelligent, and trustworthy. A race mice could rely on in the future. They didn't have an official alliance, but Carbine suspected that with how they kept growing more and more comfortable with each other, that would change someday.

Life on Mars had changed completely from what it was a few short years ago...but one thing that _didn't_ change, especially as time went on, was what she and the military needed to do on a day to day basis. The battle last year was the last time they had needed to gather and fight, and the first time something of that magnitude had happened since the war ended three years ago. Their operations had shifted from offensive to defensive. A presence meant to monitor and maintain order and peace.

It was the natural progression of things--so natural that Carbine didn't stop to think about it...until one afternoon she found herself working in the filing room. She had been doing paperwork so much and for so long, she had stopped paying attention to it. But that day, though she wasn't sure why, she stopped and took a look at what she was doing. Took a look at herself in that very moment, standing there with a pile of old reports in her hands and the biggest concern on her mind was making sure she filed them away properly.

Was this what she had become? A glorified file clerk? Someone whose biggest responsibilities were sorting through paperwork and briefing and debriefing guards and soldiers who already knew how to do their jobs?

It had happened so slowly she hadn't noticed until now, but it would appear that her title of General had become just that; a title. A meaningless word. Nothing more. The days of battle and glory and action had faded and gone. The only things left were to finish restoring what they had lost. To lay down the framework of future generations. To record all that had happened and all they had accomplished and make sure no one ever forgot.

It was a noble mission...but was it a difficult one? Hardly. Sure, someone was needed to guide their efforts and make sure everything was in order, but was someone of her caliber really necessary?

Looking down at the stack of papers still in her hands, Carbine knew in her heart the answer to that question. Anyone could do what she was doing. The true extent of her skills would probably never be called upon again. They weren't needed anymore.

With a chill in her veins, Carbine left the stack on top of a cabinet and blindly left the room. She didn't pay any attention where she was going; her feet seemed to find their way to her office on their own. Did she need to do something in here? She couldn't remember. Did it even matter? Would anyone notice if she stopped this very second, walked away and never came back? Was anything she did of any real use anymore?

Part of her was scolding herself, telling her that she was wasting time thinking about such pointless things when there were more important things to be done. But that voice of despair persisted: was there? Was there really?

It was a question she had never stopped to ask herself before, but suddenly realized that she should have. And maybe a small part of her had been trying to, but had been too afraid to speak up.

And then movement by her desk caught her eye. It didn't startle her to learn that she wasn't alone. In fact, seeing Poison's pillar-like figure standing there gave her a rush of relief. She didn't say a word as she hurried into his arms, and he didn't ask any questions. Fortunately she didn't cry as she let herself be blanketed by the safety his arms always brought; she'd have slapped herself if she did. The worry in her spirit was already calming, his presence like a tonic to her.

He understood. Somehow, she knew that he did. He always had. And that was why she could let herself feel safe when she was with him. There were no longings to refuse or expectations to disappoint. Only that silent understanding. And as she found herself standing at a threshold of uncertainty...at least this one thing was certain.

* * *

After that quiet moment of personal revelation, Carbine had difficulty looking at her everyday activities the same way again. A decision needed to be made; she knew that now. But which one? She could bring it all to an end now, leave the position that had become one that anyone could fill now, take up something else that would have the same effect as what she was doing here; paving the way for future generations. Or she could stay where she was, powerful but stagnant, full of authority but beyond her usefulness. She could cling to what just wasn't there anymore until the last of her strength had faded, and her men looked on her with far more pity than respect.

Either choice was equally troubling. The second would allow her to hang on to what she knew, while the first could potentially leave her in a position where she was starting all over. A place where her achievements might spark a glimmer of respect but ultimately mean nothing. Should she stay or should she go?

She didn't mention to anyone the direction her thoughts had turned these days--not even Poison. Ever since that night they spoke out on the ledge, he had opened up to her a little more. Unexpectedly, so had she. Over time, she eventually shared it all; her ideals when she was young, her plans when she first joined ranks with no knowledge of what awaited her--even the love she had found and then lost, though in a considerably different way than he had lost his.

He in turn shared more with her than she ever expected him to. He never spoke about his home city or their way of life, but he told her about himself. His life hadn't been easy, but it had ultimately been a simple one; he had loving parents and brothers and sisters once, but they were gone now. Like all underdwellers, he was trained in multiple forms of combat and first aid. He knew how to throw a vehicle together from scratch, if he had to. He was particularly skilled in picking locks and other forms of infiltration--like she had needed to be told in order to know _that_.

Seeing him had become the bright point of her days. He had become her friend, her confidant. The one she could trust to never judge. To understand like no one else could. He always did. She had come to enjoy his company more than anyone else she knew--and she especially enjoyed the feel of his hand on her hair when he held her, the touch of his mouth on hers, the fire that always existed in his kisses. He had become the secret she loved keeping. Hers and only hers.

She probably should have seen it coming, but the day she found him in her private quarters took her completely off guard.

That room was small and plain, the bare look unsoftened by personal touches. She never used it for anything except to sleep and to change her clothes, and one afternoon she unlocked the automatic door and walked briskly inside to do the latter. When she switched on the light, she almost jumped back in surprise; Poison was lounging on her bed. Completely nonchalant with his arms folded beneath his head, he smiled in greeting as she glared at him.

"How did you get in here? Never mind, I know how-- _what_ are you doing in here?"

In his usual way, he didn't answer with words. He just gave her one of his sly, suggestive looks, smile crooked and eyebrow cocked. Carbine felt her cheeks warm. "I thought I made it clear..."

This was the first time he had ever done anything that crossed over that line. Had she, without realizing it, given some kind of signal that she was all right with it if he did?

His other eyebrow lifted. "You don't want to?"

Carbine wanted to groan. What was it about this rat that always left her flustered and fumbling for what to say? Of course she wanted to--that wasn't the point. "I told you this isn't on the table, and--"

He was already sitting up. Swinging his feet to the floor, his calm expression said he was on his way out the door--no arguments. Never any arguments. Nothing but respect for her and what she wanted.

Something in her heart softened. She tried to remain cool, but as she reached up and started unsnapping the front of her vest, her fingers shook a little. Clearing her throat loudly, she quickly turned away; it was easier not to look at him right now. As she sat on the edge of the bed, she said, "All right. But let's get it over with quickly. I have a meeting to go to in an hour."

She spoke calmly, her tone staying even. Like this wasn't anything for her to get excited about. Feeling pleased with herself, she pulled her vest off, then reached down to tug off her boots.

When she straightened up again, she felt Poison's presence loom behind her. And the next thing she knew, she was lying flat on her back on the mattress, the towering rat's massive form hovering over her. Carbine almost let out a squeak in spite of herself; she suddenly felt very, very small. Powerless. She knew she had no hope of breaking free of the hands that were tightening around her slender wrists.

As Poison shifted her arms so they were up above her head, he leaned closer, his gaze locking with hers. His expression was solemn, but there was a fire burning behind his lone eye. "Just so you know," he said, his voice low and deep with desire, "when it comes to you, there isn't _anything_ I'm going to do quickly."

* * *

When Carbine woke up, she had no idea what time it was. Hours had passed before she finally fell, utterly exhausted, to sleep, and hours more had probably gone by since then. When she opened her eyes, she found herself in a state that she hadn't been in since...she couldn't even remember when. She was completely naked under the sheet pulled loosely over her. Her body felt so warm and satisfied she would swear she could hear it humming in pleasure. The whole world looked funny to her--bright and vibrant and alive, like some sort of energy, strange and new, had been poured over everything, giving her dingy little room a clarity it wasn't supposed to have.

She felt weird. Heavy and sated like never before, yet so airy and light, she imagined she could take wing and fly. As she stretched her hands up to the too-bright ceiling, she practically expected there to be sunlight radiating from her fingers.

She was being ridiculous. She pressed her buzzing hands to her forehead, trying to reel in her wild thoughts...and giggled. She thought about what she had just experienced, and felt the after-effects from it all throughout her body...and like any fool female, she giggled. But she was too light-headed and giddy to even care.

It suddenly dawned on her that she had missed her meeting. But she found that she didn't care about that either. She hadn't been late for anything in years, and here she had failed to show up for something entirely. She'd have a hard time explaining why when she finally showed her face...and she _didn't_ care.

All she could think about how good she still felt. How _amazing_ she had felt before. And of course she was thinking about the one who made her feel that way.

Turning her head, she found Poison sitting up beside her, quietly honing the tip of his favorite knife. He acknowledged her with a brief smile before focusing on his work again; she was pretty sure her smile was dazzling as she scooted closer, brushing her fingers up and down his arm. He was sitting on top of the sheets, completely comfortable with being nude in front of her. She moved her hand further up his arm, admiring the definition of his muscles, the raw strength she felt pulsing in them.

He smiled at her again, reaching over to touch her face. "You're so beautiful when you're asleep," he noted. "All the tension just disappears. You looked so peaceful."

That was all he said before going back to his knife-sharpening...but Carbine felt like she was glowing.

Smiling to herself, her fingers continued to wander, touching his chest, his shoulder. He was much too tall for her to reach his face without sitting up, so after modestly securing the covers (it had been a long, long time since she'd woken up naked next to someone) she settled comfortably at his side and drew her fingers over his cheek. She'd come to love the feel of his fur, and how it gleamed like silver in the light. She moved her hand over his brow, the top of his head, caressed his pointed ears. They were as different to her as his thick, scratchy tail, the fact that he didn't have any antennas. But she loved all those things about him just the same.

How could she have ever thought he wasn't handsome? He was more than handsome. He was amazing from head to toe.

He never showed any sign of being self-conscious about his eyepatch, not even as she found herself tracing her fingertips over it. She moved them down his cheek, following the thin line of his old scar. Judging by the slight lift to the corners of his mouth, he was waiting for her to ask the question on her mind. "How did this happen?" she asked, very softly.

His smile grew. "You probably imagine some deadly battle I had once, right? Someone got the upper hand and took a knife to my face?"

"Something like that."

With a quiet snicker, Poison set the sharpening tool down and held his knife up to the light. The jagged edge gleamed wickedly. "When I was fourteen, Nitro and I were working on our first set of bikes together. We had no idea what we were doing back then and a hot spring coil came flying out. Farewell, half my looks."

He grinned slyly at her, and Carbine found herself laughing in return. "Not true," she said casually, trailing her fingers over his cheek again. "You're still gorgeous."

"Do tell," he said, still grinning.

She laughed again. She couldn't believe how carefree she felt right now--how _good_. It felt so good to just let everything go for once in her life. To just enjoy herself--and someone else. To look back on the past and be able to laugh. She couldn't remember the last time she'd laughed so freely.

It made affection swell in her heart as she touched his eyepatch again. After hesitating briefly, she nudged it aside. She wasn't sure why, but she suddenly found herself wanting to see all of him. Somehow, in spite of his nature, he had become someone who hid nothing from her. He had shared everything about himself with her; this was the only part of him left that she hadn't uncovered.

He didn't mind. Like he had been expecting her to do that, he held still as she gazed quietly at the ruined tissue his wide eyepatch hid, the dark, empty socket. After pressing a soft kiss to the bare patch of skin, she nudged the eyepatch back in place.

She settled her head on his shoulder after that, quietly basking in this moment that was theirs and only theirs. She felt so safe, so comfortable. Like she'd found something that was always meant to be hers. Something she never wanted to let go.

It was a thought that made her sit up, her smile fading. Her mood sobered in a hurry. All of a sudden she felt a dawning revelation--a revelation that set her heart racing. Her hand tightened around the sheet at her chest, just over her heart; had she done what she suspected she had done? Without even noticing it, had she...?

The thought gave her a chill, but she quickly looked at the rat sitting beside her again. So calm, so strong. Unaware of what was on her mind, he was busy putting his knife back into its sheath and leaving it with his other things on the floor. She looked back on all they had shared together--all of it. She pictured the trust, the confidence, the passion. The heat he had shared with her until it was burning through her very veins.

He wasn't touching her now, but her heart burned just the same. It burned with a fire she never thought she would feel again. A fire so strong it hurt, making her catch her breath.

Her next thought was: well, _now_ what? The whole point of this situation they were in together was that they agreed that they were never getting attached. They meant nothing to each other. And as far as she knew, she still meant nothing to Poison. What she felt now wouldn't change that. If he still, as she suspected, only cared for the one he lost, then she was only wasting her time--and his.

For a brief second a surge of panic rose up, choking her as she realized how stupid she was being, and how she'd messed up a good thing...but she pushed those feelings down. What was done was done. She could face this. She was used to pain; nothing could come of this that she couldn't handle.

Carbine knew that telling him and getting it over with was the best course of action. No point in delaying it--in letting these feelings grow. If she was being as foolish as she suspected she was being, then the sooner this came to an end, the better.

Steeling herself, she reached over and put a hand on his shoulder, urging him closer. "Come here," she said quietly.

He complied, all of his attention focusing on her as she coaxed him forward, until she was lying back again. As his face hovered near hers, she thought about how this was undoubtedly something he had never experienced before. But it was the easiest, quickest way, smoother than tripping over awkward words. Touching her antennas to his forehead, she let what she was feeling speak for her.

She let him feel all of it. Her uncertainty about her future. The happiness his presence in her life had brought her. How much she had come to value his companionship. His friendship. His honesty and forthrightness.

And her love. Right now, she felt that most of all. She loved him and wanted to keep him, but she made sure it got through to him that she understood if she couldn't.

In return, she got to feel how he felt about her. At first he was surprised when her emotions entered him--but he quickly caught on to what was happening. And his mind opened up to her in response, letting her feel what was inside him this very moment.

His desires were simple and plain. He wanted to continue to help keep his city and its people safe. But he also wanted someone to share his home with. Someone he could journey through life with. Have a child with. Someone he could hold and know was all his own. He wanted an equal. Someone he could respect who respected him. Someone who had the power to take his breath away.

And it was all for her. He had known all along that she was everything he wanted. He wanted her to be his--just like he was already hers. He had been the whole time. His heart was bursting with love for her and he had been waiting for the moment he could finally give it to her. All she had ever needed to do was say the word.

Carbine's eyes were damp as she broke the connection, but she couldn't have cared less. Wrapping her arms around his neck and burying her face in his warm fur, she felt the safety he always brought her wash over her. She closed her eyes and smiled. "Yes."


	7. Our Little Star

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rimfire and Bevra knew that they would end up facing obstacles while building their family. They just didn't know what kind.
> 
> Starts during chapter 13 of Together On Mars and ends during the previous tangent. Rated PG.

When Rimfire first found out that he was going to be a dad, he was surprised--but thrilled. Excited. Call it fatherly intuition, but he felt it down to the tip of his tail that he and his mate were having a girl. And right from the start, when he saw how nervous Bev was, he made sure to remind her of what was important; no matter how she turned out, she was still their baby. And while he understand why all the genetic material in an Imeeran's makeup was cause for concern, he didn't think that it automatically guaranteed that something would go wrong. This _was_ the first time one of them had conceived a child with another race, so no one could predict what would actually happen. Maybe, since Bevra was female, her body would operate the same way it did when she bred with her own kind and only select the components that would produce another Imeeran.

But even if that didn't happen and their DNA combined a little sloppily...it still wouldn't matter to him. No matter what their baby ended up being, he would still love her. His only concern was that she was born strong and healthy. After Bevra explained to him how virtually any one of the thousands of species an Imeeran was comprised of could end up forming in her womb--whether it was normally formed in a womb or not--he realized that however she turned out, there was a strong chance their baby was going to need special care.

On the day he found out they were expecting, that was Rimfire's primary concern--Bevra's too. They both worried they might not have what their child needed in order to raise her properly, among other concerns. And with all of their thoughts dwelling on the care and safety of their unborn daughter, neither of them ever considered that the one who would wind up suffering the most was Bev.

But that was what ended up happening.

It wasn't a full week yet after she told him she was expecting when the pain started. And stubborn ex-military leader that she was, she probably wouldn't have said a thing about it if he hadn't been close enough to feel it with her at the time. Not literally, but he felt the jolt of surprise that passed through her when the pain first hit, followed by her confusion...and a hint of fear. It had scared her that the pain was centered in her stomach, which he quickly figured out when he hurried over and found her with her hand pressed to her middle.

The pain hadn't been anything serious, she told him after it passed, but it was weird. She'd been pregnant twice before and never experienced anything like it, especially this early. But being the infuriatingly stubborn creature that she was, she brushed the incident off--even after he suggested firmly that she should go in for an examination. It was probably something completely inconsequential, she argued, like built-up gas pressure. Pregnant women developed _plenty_ of gas. He should consider himself warned.

Rimfire could never hope to be half as stubborn as she was--but darn it if he wasn't going to try. An expectant mother needed to go in for checkups anyway, especially one who was dealing with as much uncertainty as she was. He kept harping on the issue--politely--until finally, with an irritated sigh paired with a loving smile, she relented and told him she'd go visit the hospital on Malteria if anything odd happened again.

Well, she didn't say she would go, exactly. She said she would _think_ about going. He at least got that much out of her.

Bevra was so convinced nothing else would happen, it took her completely off guard when the pain came back. It was several days later and they were in the kitchen together, cleaning up after breakfast. His mate was in the middle of putting away a clean stack of dishes in the upper cabinet--and the next thing he knew they were crashing to shards and slivers at her feet as she jerked back sharply, both hands clapping over her midsection.

The pain was about the same as before, only this time it lasted for nearly two minutes. Rimfire held her tightly until it faded, and after it was gone, Bevra stayed tucked in his arms and didn't say anything. She was too shaken.

That same day was when Uncle Modo dropped by to say hi and was surprised but pleased when they shared the news. Rimfire put on a brave face and made small talk, saying honestly that he was happy to be a dad so soon and he couldn't wait to meet their little girl. Assuming Bevra carried her for the full Imeeran term, it would be an entire year before she was born.

Bevra was distracted that afternoon and didn't say all that much. A tiny seed of doubt had been planted in her mind--but by the end of the day she had convinced herself that it was just coincidence and pushed her worries aside. So _stubborn_.

He would have pressed the issue, but at that same time other disasters kept striking, one after another after another. He had already gotten caught in the middle of a fight between a group of sand raiders and surface rats that wound up doing a number on his arm and frying his back, and then came the direct attack from the sand raiders, and the news about the lab, and then Throttle and the others tried to explore it...

On top of that, he wasn't exactly in the best of shape right now, but that didn't stop him from finding a second to mention what was going on to Miss Doctor Deichan when he and Bevra got the message to go to Malteria. Which was how he ended up in Throttle's hospital room that day, where he happened to get the idea that maybe a transfusion of Throttle's blood would somehow save Miss Tamerin-ma'am's waning life.

As frazzled as she had been at the time, the kindly doctor had taken a moment to listen to his concerns, but she couldn't think of a reason for his mate to be in discomfort so soon. She needed to know more, like what kind of pain it was--or better yet, Bevra should come in for a scan. But of course. He had promptly told his saucy mate to stay in the hospital and get checked out; she told him she'd go later, after the battle back on Mars was over. Maybe.

"I can't decide if I love you because you're so stubborn, or in spite of you being so stubborn," he said after everything finally calmed down again and they were relaxing in bed together.

"Maybe a little of both?" his mate suggested sweetly.

She scooted closer, pushed his hair back to kiss his forehead, then curled up against his side and went to sleep. Getting comfortable was a little difficult for him, since he had to not only sleep on his stomach for now, he also had to watch how much pressure he put on his arm and shoulder. He wasn't worried about his arm, since it was healing fast and he could already go without his sling for a few hours each day...but his back was another issue.

Taking care of it was a pain from the start. He couldn't apply the medication by himself, and even though the soothing salve his mate applied to his damaged skin daily kept most of the discomfort at bay, he had to be careful. The slowly healing tissue was paper-thin in some places and would split if he twisted his torso too much. Going back on duty was out, so for several weeks after the big battle, he did little other than wander around at home or out to see what everyone else was up to. He lent a hand with the cleanup when he could--as long he didn't have to bend over or reach for anything.

Inconvenience aside, the part that would have bothered him most was his own vanity...if it wasn't for how his mate treated him the whole time, that is. She applied his medication every day without him ever asking her to, the love in her gentle touch plain even if their bond didn't exist. With infinite tenderness, she would massage the salve onto his sensitive skin and then fasten his bandages, and then, if he wasn't feeling up to it, she would help him with his sling, too. But he usually handled that himself.

The doctor who treated his burns warned him that his fur was going to have a pretty hard time growing back once he finished healing, since there was already a great deal of scar tissue forming. In fact, there was a strong chance that it wouldn't grow back at all. His back might stay bare--ugly--for the rest of his life.

It meant nothing to Bev. He was still flawless and beautiful in her eyes, and one morning, about a month after they first found out she was expecting, he woke up to the feeling of his mate's cheek resting on his back, near his good shoulder. He wasn't wearing his bandages or any salve, and as he slowly came back from sleep, he felt the tender brush of her fingertips on the back of his neck, the petal-soft touch of her lips as she kissed his contorted skin.

It was a wake-up that made a thick lump form in his throat, and his eyes were moist as he blinked them open. But the moment was broken when Bev abruptly pulled away from his side, curling up as she clutched her stomach. She wasn't as startled this time, but she was worried. That seed of doubt was starting to grow; three times was too many to be a coincidence. Still, it was another month and another few bouts of abdominal pain before she was finally ready to go to Malteria and get looked over.

Rimfire could understand her hesitation, and it wasn't fueled strictly by her stubbornness. No parent wanted to learn there was something wrong with their unborn baby. But it was only by finding that out for sure would they be able to do anything about it, and so, without letting on to anyone that something was up, they teleported over and walked to the Undercity hospital together. Little Doctor Deichan-ma'am was on break that day, busy at home preparing for her own addition, so it was a male doctor Rimfire didn't know who examined his mate that morning.

Bev was very specific in her instructions and told him to check their baby directly for anything out of the ordinary. The news that she was carrying the first inter-species child in Imeeran history was well-known throughout the underwater colony, and the doctor was openly curious as he had her lie down on the exam table. Using a special scanning laser, he pulled up a 3D image of their baby on the monitor next to the table.

In spite of his worries, it was a sight that made Rimfire's heart skip an excited beat, and he felt a tremor of happiness from Bev as she quickly reached for his hand. Rimfire had been catching up on his reading while he was off duty--texts on pregnancy, mostly, and he had seen several images of what an unborn baby mouse was supposed to look like at this point. Their baby looked a little different; smaller, a little less developed, and not at all mouse-like. The doctor didn't seem to think anything was out of the ordinary though, reporting that everything looked like it was supposed to for an Imeeran at this particular stage of development.

"So, everything is all right?" Bevra asked hopefully as she squeezed her mate's hand tighter.

"Sure looks like it," the doctor said with a smile.

He looked over the 3D image a little more, then ran a few other tests, including a small fluid sample. No anomalies turned up, but the doctor did discover one thing: they were definitely having a girl.

By the time they went home, Bev was satisfied that her pain wasn't cause for alarm, while Rimfire was over the moon--both of them. He immediately ran out to tell everyone they knew, then dove into renovating the room they had set aside for their little one. It was good therapy for his arm, which was mostly healed now; he just needed to be careful not to overexert it.

Not a whole lot else happened over the next few months. Things were quiet on Mars again, which was a relief after so much tension and worry over the growing threat outside mouse territory--not to mention the grief caused by the lives lost during the long battle. Those issues had passed, or were passing, and the damage done to their city was eventually cleaned up, while things were improving beyond their borders as well. The new sources of water that now dotted the planet's surface were sparking vegetation growth, which mice were helping along by cultivating and planting small gardens outside their territory. Not for themselves, but for the other two races suffering out in the barren desert.

Hopefully, alleviating the threat of starvation would calm their aggression a little. Neither surface rats or sand raiders had been seen within many miles of their city since the battle, though Rimfire heard a few of his fellow guards mention that underdweller rats were being spotted more and more frequently out there, moving across the sand on their sleek red-brown bikes in noticeable patterns. Almost like they were patrolling. Keeping an eye on things.

Life was going great. Everyone was happy and healthy, the land was peaceful, and there was Uncle Modo's upcoming wedding to look forward to. The only thing that dampened Rimfire's mood was the fact that Bev's pain kept coming back.

After their trip to the hospital, they both silently suspected that it might, but neither of them thought it would get as bad as it eventually did. As the weeks went on, the flare of pain that centered around her abdomen started coming more frequently, and for longer periods of time. It still wasn't that bad yet by Uncle Modo's wedding day, but a week or so later, it suddenly got worse. The pain grew so severe Bevra was left gasping for breath, her face reddening and beading with sweat.

Rimfire knew how tough she was, so the fact that she was in so much pain it often left her immobile until it passed really scared him. Bevra was scared too--but her fear, unlike his, always vanished when the pain did. She would doggedly push each incident from her mind until it happened again.

By the time she reached her sixth month, the pain was coming two or three times a week. Now, it never lasted for less than five minutes--and sometimes it lasted for as long as eight. On the worst days, Bevra was reduced to a tiny, crunched up ball on the floor, shaking uncontrollably as tears streamed down her face. And Rimfire was helpless to do a thing about it, except cradle her until the pain was gone again--and repeatedly insist that she needed to go in for another exam. But no matter how much he begged, she always said no.

Finally, around when she was nearing the eighth month of her pregnancy, he felt ready to lose it. He was prepared to do whatever it took to get her in the hospital--any hospital at this point--and on an exam table. But it was Bev who actually lost it.

She had never yelled at him before, so it shocked him when, just as he was opening his mouth to not ask but tell her to go to the hospital, she whirled on him. Throwing down the baby clothes she had been holding, she hollered, "Just what the hell do you expect them to do? Carve her out and toss her into a test tube? Hope that she can finish growing by herself?"

Rimfire was so taken aback he couldn't think of a thing to say. And after standing there unhappily for several minutes, feeling like his mate's anger was drenching him, he realized that there wasn't anything he _could_ say, because there was just too much that he didn't understand. Finally, he let out a weary sigh and shook his head. "I don't know. I just don't know."

Bevra did--or at least firmly believed that she did. "It's only four more months," she said darkly. "I can handle a little pain for that much longer."

"But it's not a little pain," Rimfire cried in frustration. "We both know it's not, so don't go pretending that it is. And what are you going to do if for the next four months it only gets worse and worse?"

"I'll keep doing what I'm supposed to be doing," his mate responded, suddenly calm. "I'm going to carry her until the day she's born. The doctor said she's developing normally, so whatever it is that's happening, it's happening to me, not her."

"That's exactly the point! There's something going on here that's _not_ normal, and it's hurting you!"

And whatever that something was...Rimfire knew it was his fault. Imeeran's had easy, stress-free pregnancies, so it could only be his DNA that had introduced a problem. But as this was going through his mind, his heart filling with shame, he could sense that his mate didn't blame him. She wasn't concerned enough to want to pin the cause on something, or someone. All she cared about was seeing this through, no matter what.

"It doesn't matter. I'm her mother and that means I'm supposed to take care of her. And if that includes having to be in pain for an entire year just to bring her into the world, then so be it."

Rimfire fell silent, not knowing what to say in return...and then he noticed something that made him pause. Underneath her rigid determination, he suddenly felt a flash of something new: guilt. And all at once he understood.

Bevra wasn't acting this way out of stubbornness, or out of pride. It was because she was looking back on the pain she had caused her other two children when she chose to stop being a mother to them, and it made her feel guilty and ashamed. The effects of her actions had lasted for years--they continued on today, in fact. She and Miss Tamerin-ma'am had reached an understanding and were rekindling their mother-daughter relationship, but Jayce...

He behaved civilly toward his mother these days, but to say that a closeness was growing between them again would be stretching it. He understood and accepted the fact that she regretted what she had done and still loved him just as strongly as ever, but that was about it. He wasn't interested in making her a part of his life again. He had been too young when she left him and too much time had gone by since then.

So now, having caused her beloved children to suffer, Bevra was willing to suffer anything necessary for her new child. No amount of physical pain mattered to her. As she turned away from him and picked the scattered pile of clothes up off the floor, he felt how much she loved their daughter, how intensely protective she was of her. There wasn't a single responsibility she was willing to shirk or anything she was interested in doing to make carrying her a little easier.

It made his frustration soften a little. He didn't argue with her anymore after that day, though it still worried him when she had another episode. And they weren't able to keep it a secret for much longer; Miss Tamerin-ma'am, who had started to suspect something was up months ago, finally asked them if everything was all right. They decided to be honest with her and explained what was happening, while at the same time requesting that word didn't travel beyond family.

She agreed, and she also offered to help out in any way she could...but the situation didn't get any worse after that. The remaining four months passed with shorter bouts of pain, and they didn't happen quite as often as before. It made both of them relax a little, bringing them to a place where their minds were a little more at peace. Enough for them to focus on the important things again: preparing for the day their daughter was finally born.

Everything was ready and waiting. Her new room was complete, they had plenty of clothes and toys and baby essentials. And during the quiet nights over the next four months, it became a routine for Rimfire to stretch out at his mate's side and rest his cheek on her round belly. He would place his hand over their daughter's temporary home and feel her kicking softly, and wonder if she could feel the overflowing love he had for her in return. He had heard about the Imeeran speculation that unborn babies could sense their parents and hoped it was true.

The last few weeks of Bevra's pregnancy were fairly typical. Their baby only twitched occasionally and Bevra felt heavy and tired--but happy and excited. Rimfire was too; it looked like everything was going to be all right after all, and he couldn't wait to finally hold his little girl. It had taken them a while to make up their minds, but they had picked out her name, too: Astrid.

As the predicted due-date neared, their family started dropping by frequently to say hi and deliver baby gifts. Rimfire hadn't seen much of Jayce lately, since he was busy at home with his newborn son, but motherly Miss Tamerin-ma'am was growing visibly excited about meeting her new baby sister. But as the anticipation grew, Rimfire found that his worry did, too.

Bevra hadn't been in any pain for a good few days now, but his concern was that whatever had been causing it might create complications during the birth. One morning he tentatively voiced this concern to his willful mate, along with his thought that it was best for her to go in for a thorough scan now--especially if it showed something that might make entering full-blown labor dangerous, and for the safety of them both the doctors would need to bring Astrid into the world via incision.

He expected Bevra to argue with him again, claiming that birthing their daughter the hard way was part of her job as a mother...but she surprised him by agreeing, and without hesitation.

They transported over to Malteria later that same day. At the hospital they were met by Miss Doctor Deichan, armed with the top members of her medical staff. Even if she was retired now, Bevra still commanded a lot of respect, and the nurses took great pains with making her comfortable in a room in the maternity wing.

After that...things got a little strange. Another scan of Astrid was done, but no one immediately reported the results. Bevra was lying in bed; Rimfire sat close at her side and watched as the petite doctor and a group of nurses exchanged rapid whispers and a couple of odd looks.

No explanations were offered, though the pink-skinned physician quickly agreed with his notion that attempting a vaginal birth was ill-advised. She sounded uncertain about something, but Bevra didn't ask any questions before she was moved to an operating room and sedated. Rimfire was allowed to be present as long as he kept to the small area he was escorted to and changed into the sterile clothes he was given. He did what he was told, then sat on a metal chair in the corner, away from the operating equipment and medical staff. Away from the table his mate was lying on, her snow white form bare under the sheet.

He didn't have a weak stomach, but he found he couldn't watch too closely as the first incision was made. And it was the instant that small cut was made that he knew something was very, very wrong.

Everyone started moving and talking at once. Tools were passed rapidly back and forth. Everyone was dressed head to toe in white so he couldn't discern who was who. Between the cluster of bodies he saw glimpses of his mate lying sedated on the table, white on white. And red. In a matter of seconds there was blood everywhere. On the sheets, on the white uniforms, on his mate's skin. Much, much too much blood.

The last thing he remembered clearly after that was trying to get closer. He didn't understand what was happening and in a moment of terror and panic, instinct had him on his feet and rushing to his mate's side. He knew there was nothing he could do but his rational mind had fled; his only thought now was that he needed to protect the one he loved. He remembered getting up, reaching out, uttering something in despair as strong arms held him back...

And then he was blinking his eyes open to find himself lying in a hospital bed, in a quiet, empty room. He felt almost completely normal as he sat up, like he was waking up from an afternoon nap. As soon as he started moving, a female nurse he didn't recognize hurried into the room. "Sorry about that," she said, as she came to the bedside and drew the covers back, "but the doctors needed you to stay out of the way and thought it was best to sedate you. For a minute it looked like you were in danger of having a panic attack, or going into shock."

Rimfire wasn't worried about himself right now. "I feel fine. Where is she? Is she all right? Are they both all right?"

"She's just fine; she's recovering in the next room. The doctor will be here in a minute to explain everything, and then you can go see her."

She paused, looking like she wanted to add something, then changed her mind about it. She left the room and Miss Doctor Deichan came in a minute later. "It's a good thing you two came in when you did," she said, after asking how he felt. "Having Bevra deliver normally could have been detrimental even without the additional complication."

By now Rimfire was sitting on the edge of the bed; he fixed her with a firm, questioning look. "What happened? Why was she bleeding so much?"

The small doctor glanced away for a second. "I feel awful that we didn't discover it sooner, but...it isn't anything we've dealt with before, so we weren't looking for it. We were scanning the baby directly and realized she needed to be removed carefully. We didn't notice what was going on until we started the procedure."

"And what _did_ happen?" Rimfire pressed, trying to keep the memory of his mate stained with blood out of his head and failing.

"The baby didn't implant properly. She ended up growing outside of the womb."

He made a face at the thought. "Where...?"

"Along her abdominal wall. Which would explain all the pain she's been in, and the bleeding was caused by us accidentally slicing through the placenta."

She flashed a small, regretful smile. "There really isn't much we could have done for her had we known, although I imagine it would have been less stressful for you both had you understood the cause."

After pausing to shake her head and smile again, like she knew his mate's stubbornness all too well, she said, "As difficult as a pregnancy as I'm sure it has been, there wasn't any permanent damage done. She'll be just fine."

Rimfire was so relieved he sank back for a moment, almost overwhelmed with gratitude. Then he lifted his head again. "And Astrid?"

Doctor Deichan's pleased expression faltered. Her pretty mouth tightened, and her forehead lined for a moment, like she was trying to choose her words carefully. "She wasn't harmed during delivery," she finally said, though from the way she spoke, Rimfire could tell that she was doubtful about how she would fare in the future. He felt a spike of fatherly worry. "Is something wrong with her?"

He had to force the words out, and they sounded harsh to his own ears...but he had to know. And deep down, he hoped against hope that the little doctor would quickly reassure that everything was fine...but instead she lowered her eyes as she pensively clasped her slender hands. "She's weak," she said quietly. "Very, very weak. Her proportioning is unusual, and...when we scanned her before the operation, we learned that her bones are highly fragile. Brittle to the point where too much pressure could crack them. Which was why we decided to rush ahead with surgery; if a vaginal birth had been attempted, she could have wound up suffering a multitude of fractures."

If a vaginal birth had even been possible, Rimfire added dryly to himself. He stared off into the distance for a moment...then got determinedly to his feet. "Are there any other problems?"

"Not so far as we can tell. She's ultimately healthy, but she'll likely never be strong. It's hard to say at this point, but her immune system may develop weakly as well. She could end up susceptible to frequent illness."

A life full of uncertainty, Rimfire realized with a sinking heart. And he suddenly understood how Bevra had felt for the last year; he didn't care about what he himself had to endure. He just wanted his baby girl to be happy, safe, and free of pain.

"Can I see her now?"

Nodding, she took him to a small room down the hall. Inside, his mate was sitting up in bed, their daughter cradled in her arms. She looked up with a tired smile as he rushed to her side.

Underneath that smile, he felt that she was unsure--unsure of so many things. For the moment she was mostly unsure about what he was going to think.

Her amber eyes searched his face. In her arms, Astrid was held close to her chest, the soft blanket she was wrapped in hiding her tiny body. "She might not be what you're expecting," she said in a quiet voice.

"I don't care."

Rimfire took a seat in the chair beside the bed and held out his arms. Bevra hesitated for a moment or two, but she, very carefully, passed their daughter to him. Mindful of what he had just been told, Rimfire kept his touch as light as if he was handling spun glass. And as he sat back with his daughter in his arms for the first time, it kind of felt like that was what he was holding. She was so light and insubstantial in her blanket, it was like she didn't weigh anything at all.

The first thing he got a look at was her face. His eyes focused on her skin, which was a soft violet--perfectly normal Imeeran coloring. The short strands of baby down growing on the top of her little head were a bright teal. Nothing unusual at all...but then he noticed her closed eyes. Her other facial features were tiny, but her eyes looked exceptionally large.

He examined her further, carefully nudging the blanket open with his fingertips. His stomach knotted up when he realized how _thin_ she was. No meat on her little bones at all--and those bones looked unusually long. Her limbs were gangly, almost bird-like as they tucked up against her short torso. The fingers on her tiny hands looked almost double the length of what a baby her size should have.

Extra-long bones that were easy to break. The thought stabbed at his heart and made his eyes cloud.

When he blinked them clear again, he was startled to see that Astrid was awake and looking at him. The large, round orbs that watched him from her sweet face bore silver irises, so pale they almost looked transparent, their surface bright, clear, and starry. The dark pupils in the center were also unusually large; they expanded slightly as the silver eyes moved over his face.

And then Rimfire felt something funny. A faintly tingling kind of sensation just at the tips of his antennas. And then, just like when he and his mate were close to each other, an emotion that wasn't his own spread through those sensory organs and into his heart.

It was a very simple feeling, triggered by instinct and nothing more. And he could sum it up in one word: safe.

Looking at those bright, wide eyes that were watching him so trustfully, he knew exactly where the feeling was coming from. A shaky sob broke free and he held his baby girl closer as his eyes clouded again. He closed them tight and let them fill all they wanted to. Beside him, he could feel that Bevra was still uncertain--and confused. Concerned. She put a hand on his arm. "She's different, but--"

"She's perfect. She's yours and mine and that's all that matters. And I love her with all my heart."

And just like he knew he would the day he found out his mate was carrying her, he thought she was beautiful. Sniffling, he kissed her forehead as softly as he could; Astrid fidgeted slightly. He felt that feeling of safety again. She knew him and trusted him to keep her safe and secure and away from harm. Bevra trusted him to do the same. He felt relief from her now that she was sure of how he felt. Her eyes moist, she leaned over to kiss his cheek, her love overflowing for him--for both of them.

A little while later, after both parents had dried their eyes and Astrid was returned to her mother's arms, Rimfire asked if she could sense what their baby was feeling without touching her. "No," she answered in surprise. "That's something that only happens between mates. No one else's emotions can be felt except by physical contact."

He felt a flicker of jealousy from his mate as he described how he was definitely picking up what their baby was feeling, thanks to that special body part of his. "That isn't something purely Imeeran children can do," she murmured, as Astrid blinked her large eyes sleepily. "Our little one is very special."

Rimfire couldn't agree more. It was going to be a challenge raising such a delicate child, but they were both more than up to it. They couldn't wait to get out of here and go home so they could share the news--and their happiness--with their family and all their friends. The hardships of the last year were finally over; it was time to celebrate. And while Rimfire knew there would be plenty of other hardships in the future, he also knew, as he watched his tiny daughter drift off to sleep in his mate's arms, that they would all be worth it.


	8. Renewal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When an announcement for an event that no one--especially not a certain tan-furred mouse--thought would ever take place is officially sent out, it raises a single question in everyone's mind: why?
> 
> Rated T for a gratuitous scene involving a hot mouse in the shower. Enjoy.

"You know what time it is?" Throttle wondered.

"Just after six in the morning," Tamerin responded drowsily, her voice muffled from the blanket that was pulled up so high only the top of her head showed.

Grinning, her mate propped himself up on his elbow as he scooted closer, wide awake in spite of how early it was. "It's the start of the weekend," he reminded her. "We've got two whole days off work, and Mitch is out staying with friends until tomorrow."

Ample time for fun, but as he leaned over his mate and tugged the blanket down, he noticed that she had reeled her emotions in, so he couldn't tell if the look of indifference she gave him was genuine or not. "I was up late last night," she told him with a yawn.

"Doing what?"

He remembered her finishing up and leaving the garage early as usual...though she didn't come home until long after he'd gone to bed. "They have a bunch of new games at the parlor. I couldn't leave until I'd mastered them all."

"Ah."

With another yawn, Tamerin rolled onto her stomach, causing the blanket to slip down off her bare shoulders. Throttle let his gaze travel over the curve of her neck to the smooth arch of her upper back...which he suddenly realized was pure white and unmarked. He stared blankly for a moment, then tugged the blanket down further to confirm his suspicions. He let out a groan.

"You promised you were never going to remove it."

"Did not," Tamerin responded mildly, a playful smile on her face. "I artfully changed the subject every time you tried to make me."

Throttle blew air through the hair hanging over his eyes with a sigh. He'd loved the sight of that wing tattoo on his mate's back and was going to miss looking at it. Sensing his disappointment, Tamerin's smile softened. "I got a new one to replace it," she said slyly.

Her eyes watched him almost coyly as he perked up again. She was still wrapped in the blanket from the waist down, but Throttle was pretty sure he'd just been extended an invitation to change that. "Am I going to have to search for it?" he asked, equally sly.

Tamerin thought this over for a moment, then snuggled deeper into the pillow as she wiggled her left foot free from the covers and held it up. "Too tired for that just yet," she said, wagging her toes at him. Drawn intricately around her ankle in black ink was a series of thin curved lines that crisscrossed over each other before ending in small curls, putting him in mind of desert wind. Nice, but...he would have liked to have looked for it himself.

"You're not being any fun today," he told her with a sniff.

She merely giggled and burrowed under the blanket again. "Give me five more minutes...then we'll talk about fun."

"Fine," Throttle grumbled, pretending to sulk as he got out of bed. "I'll just go take a shower, all by my lonely self."

He didn't get any response (other than another giggle) so he grabbed a fresh change of clothes and headed down the hall to the bathroom. Even though it had been many months since their water reserves were filled to the point of overflowing, it still felt like such a luxury to be able to take a hot shower whenever he wanted.

As Throttle started getting undressed, he felt his mate draw away from him again, like she always did when she was respecting his privacy, until all he could feel was the quiet touch of her mind. Blocking their bond completely was impossible, but over the last few months, Tamerin had trained herself to put guards up around her emotions. It was a similar technique to how she could prevent herself from reading the emotions of others, which was a skill most Imeerans with strong empathic abilities possessed and would use when they were with someone who didn't feel comfortable having their inner self tapped into.

When those guards were fully in place, even he couldn't feel a thing from her. Which wasn't to say that she _wanted_ to hide her feelings from him; it was merely a side effect of when she withdrew from him, which lowered the risk of her accidentally slipping into his head.

It had been over a year since she developed that particular ability and he was all but used to it by now, though sometimes if he stopped to think about it, it still made him feel a little funny. On the other hand, there were times when being aware that his mate could take a look through his eyes and watch what he was doing was kind of a turn on.

This thought was casually passing through his head as he left his clothes on the bathroom floor and stepped into the shower stall--along with the thought that he wouldn't mind at all if his mate were to slip out of bed and come join him. And while they couldn't send their thoughts to each other directly, they had learned in the months following the transfusion that if they concentrated on one thought hard enough, the other would eventually catch on to what they wanted.

As he closed the shower door and twisted the water on, Throttle relaxed his mind and focused his thoughts on one thing: he wanted Tamerin to let go of the block she had put up and take a look through his eyes. She could go ahead and look to her heart's content.

She already knew that he was in a frisky mood, so he was hoping that watching him right now would inspire her to hop out of bed--or at least be ready and waiting to play by the time he was done in here.

After adjusting the water so it was nice and hot, Throttle watched as the spray from the shower head flowed over his shoulders and chest, creating wet trails down the plains of his stomach and thighs. The fur of his torso was soon soaked, causing it to turn several shades darker and lay flat against his skin, plainly displaying the tight muscles of his chest and abs.

The heat of the water rapidly filled the small space, until the slick shower walls and the glass of the door were foggy with steam. The combination of heat and moisture filling his lungs as he drew in a deep breath had a relaxing effect, and it was tempting to turn around, tilt his head back and close his eyes. Instead he kept them firmly open as he ducked his head under the spray just long enough to wet his hair, then focused way more attention than he normally would as he went to work lathering soap over his arms and shoulders.

He kept at it for longer than he ordinarily did, taking his time working the lather through his fur and down to his skin. He massaged his own muscles like he was coaxing tension out of them, while soap bubbles rinsed down the length of his body and pooled at his feet. As he worked his way lower, Throttle kept his mind zeroed in on that thought of 'go ahead and watch.' Although as he moved his fingers down his stomach, that thought unconsciously changed to 'you're watching, right?'

The guards Tamerin had put up hadn't moved, so he couldn't be sure. He also wasn't sure while they were up how well she could sense him in return, since blocking out one's own emotions was a trait only Imeerans had--with practice. He figured she had to be watching, because she had no doubt figured out from how turned on he was getting that he wasn't exactly taking a normal shower. Imagining her watching what he was doing aroused him even more, and with deliberate slowness he eased one hand even lower down his stomach, picturing that it was his mate who was touching him instead while wishing like mad she actually was.

By now there was one part of him in particular that was getting more and more anxious for attention...but he ignored it and moved on to his thighs. He massaged more lather over his tightening muscles, using exaggerated strokes that reached almost down to his knees--and that was about all he could stand. He didn't bother scrubbing up any further, since he wasn't that dirty to begin with and the soap had been running down to his feet all this time. He rinsed off until the water ran clear, then hopped out of the shower and shook off excess water before grabbing a towel. After patting it over his fur for only a second or two, he wrapped the towel loosely around his waist--so loosely it would fall off if he so much as breathed too hard--and left the bathroom.

He went straight to the bedroom, where, after the door quietly swished open as he approached, he stopped and propped his arm on the frame, resting his hand on his hip as he shifted his weight a little to one side. He didn't say a word; he let his body language do the talking, while he stood waiting. Cool, sly, smiling suggestively.

Tamerin looked just the way he'd left her; curled up on her belly and snuggled against the pillow with a faint smile on her face. Her blue eyes were closed and she was breathing slow and deep. She was so sound asleep she must have drifted off the minute he left the room.

Heart sinking in disappointment, Throttle released a quiet sigh and secured his towel with one hand as he moved over to the bed. With his free hand he reached over and tucked the blanket up around his mate's shoulders, then brushed her hair back from her face. As he was leaving a soft kiss on her forehead, the front door suddenly buzzed.

Throttle quickly dumped his towel, grabbed a pair of pajama pants--which were thankfully very loose--and hurried out of the bedroom, making sure the door closed behind him. When he opened the front door, he found Rimfire waiting outside, looking cheerful as the bright morning sun. "Hey," he greeted. "I didn't wake you up, did I?"

Shrugging, Throttle leaned against the doorframe. "Nah, I just got out of the shower. What's up? You finally back on the job?"

"I wish," the young mouse responded with a sigh. "My arm is okay other than it'll be easier for my shoulder to be dislocated from now on, but the skin on my back is still too thin for anyone to feel comfortable sending me back out on border patrol. So for now I'm stuck behind a desk."

As he spoke, he took an envelope out of the military-grade leather satchel at his hip and held it out to him. "Straight from the General herself," he said, as Throttle reached for it.

"Oh?"

Throttle looked at the crisp, very official-looking envelope in surprise. It bore an equally official-looking military seal, which told him that it indeed came straight from her Generalship's desk. "What's this about?" he wondered.

Rimfire shrugged and adjusted the satchel's strap. It looked like there were still plenty of envelopes for him to pass out. "No idea, I'm just the delivery boy."

Behind his smile, he looked pretty bored. Throttle hid a smile of his own. "How's Astrid?" he asked, changing the subject.

"Good," the young mouse answered, then, after pausing for a second, partly amended this statement. "Well, as good as she can be, I guess."

Throttle thought he saw a flash of pain in his dark brown eyes before he glanced down. "We're not letting anyone else handle her for now, and until we're sure what will and won't hurt her, we're only taking her out of her crib to change her and feed her. But even then, she seems to have new bruises every day, and just yesterday we found a fracture in her right arm."

Throttle felt a deep pang of sympathy--but at the same he was secretly relieved, knowing that he had probably saved both him and Tam from a lot of pain by taking such a drastic measure to make sure he never got her pregnant. "Sorry to hear that," he said quietly.

Rimfire glanced away again. He was trying to act casual, but Throttle could tell that it deeply upset him that he could end up hurting his baby girl just by picking her up. "We're hoping that her bones will harden a little as she gets older."

"Better make sure she drinks lots of milk," Throttle cracked weakly.

With a roll of his eyes, Rimfire started to head back to his delivery job. "Don't even joke," he shuddered, "We're still not clear on what kind of diet she's going to need when she gets older, and if we can't find solid food that's safe to feed her, Bev says she's willing to breastfeed her indefinitely."

"Ouch. Better hope she doesn't end up growing mouse teeth."

"She could always invest in a breast pump," suggested a voice behind him.

Surprised, Throttle looked over his shoulder to see Tamerin coming to join them, looking like she wasn't fully awake yet. She still had a guard up around her, so he didn't feel her walk up beyond the faint touch of her mind that was always present. She leaned against his arm with a yawn; Rimfire glanced at the oversized t-shirt she had put on and cleared his throat. "I'll, uh, be going now. You two have a great day."

He hurried on. Throttle absently closed the front door after he was gone, his eyes on his mate's long legs. Tamerin was more interested in the envelope still in his hand. "What's that?"

"Dunno."

"You smell clean. Have a nice shower?"

"Lonely."

"Awww..."

"Too late. You had your chance and you missed it."

He playfully dodged away as she tried to hug him, tearing open the seal with his thumb at the same time. The crisp envelope held a single sheet of paper, rectangular in shape and hard and stiff as an index card. It was white and plain except for a faint gold border, which framed several rows of neatly typed text. He started to read curiously--and had to take a step back and lean against the wall as he gaped.

"No way."

His sudden shock must have jolted her awake, because Tamerin's eyes were suddenly wide open, as were her feelings. Her surprise and curiosity swept over him. "What is it?"

He was too floored to answer. He just kept staring down at the card in his hands, his eyes skimming over the words and back again. He kept expecting to blink and have them change, but they didn't.

"Hey."

Concerned now, Tamerin rested a hand on his arm as she moved to his side, cocking her head so she could read with him. Her puzzlement spiked sharply. "We're invited to _what_?"

"A retirement party," Throttle responded dully. That was what the card said, anyway.

His mate squinted. "Who's retiring?"

He knew she could read it herself; she was as confused and in as much disbelief as he was. Almost. "It _says_ Carbine, but..."

Tamerin moved away and made a face. " _But_...the last time I saw her, she was fine."

Throttle knew exactly what she meant. The relentless General they both knew wasn't going to leave her job as long as she was still breathing. She would stop working when her heart did--she'd said so herself plenty of times. If she was suddenly retiring without warning, _something_ must have happened. Something that prevented her from continuing the duties that were so important to her. He scanned the invitation again, but the extremely brief message announcing the event, where and when it was being held, and the names of the invitees didn't give any hints.

With another face, Tamerin took a step back, her mood shifting to one of uncertainty. "A retirement party is kind of like a big dinner party, isn't it?" she asked slowly.

Shrugging, her mate glanced at her for a second before staring at the invitation again. "Basically."

A tremor of unhappiness--and was that a hint of shy embarrassment he was feeling?--crept into their bond. "This won't be one of those things they call a black tie event...will it?"

"Probably."

He finally tore his eyes away from the invitation and looked at her as a thought struck him. He felt an amused smirk slowly break out. "Oh, that's right...you don't own any dresses."

Throttle didn't really understand why she was so allergic to that particular article of clothing, but it was sure fun to tease her about it. "Guess this means you'll have to take a quick shopping trip," he went on casually. "The party is next weekend."

Tamerin cringed before turning hastily away. "No, it's okay...I, um, already have something."

She scurried off to the bedroom, while Throttle wondered why this was the first time he was hearing about this.

* * *

On the day of the retirement party, Throttle made sure he showered and dressed early. The whole thing still felt funny to him, and as evening approached he distractedly adjusted his clothes. Word had gotten around by now and everyone he knew was almost as surprised by the news as he was, but no one seemed to know the reason behind his ex's sudden decision. The fact that this would be a send-off for his ex and a celebration of her many achievements was another reason he felt agitated. Even if they were on pleasant terms now, and she and Tam had become--unexpectedly enough--friends...they were still exes. There was still that small worry somewhere in the back of his mind that something uncomfortable was going to come up in an otherwise casual conversation.

As he straightened his vest and checked his hair in the bathroom mirror, Throttle absently wondered if that kind of worry lingered in Carbine's mind, too. He actually hadn't seen or spoken to her over the last few months and wasn't sure what she had been up to lately--although current events suggested she had been planning for her retirement. The thought still made him shake his head in amazement.

Whatever had brought this about, he was as ready as he was going to get. He knew guests would be expected to dress nicely, so instead of old jeans he had on a pair of black slacks, his least scuffed pair of boots, and a fairly dressy-looking black vest that buttoned up the front. He debated a while, then decided to skip the sunglasses. And they didn't have to worry about getting their clothes messy during the ride to the base; escort vehicles were being sent out to pick up each guest. Classy.

After giving his hair another check he left the bathroom. Tamerin had been getting ready in the bedroom--but when he reached the living room, he found her by the couch, bending over to pick something up. He was greeted by the sight of her backside, snug and tight in a clingy blue material that displayed her curves beautifully.

"Whoa. Déjà vu."

Laughing, Tamerin straightened and turned around. "Just doing a little last minute cleaning up," she said, her tone deliberately light. "Mitch tore out of here on his way to the babysitter's and left a mess behind."

She paused, trying to stay casual as she met his gaze--but inevitably her shoulders sank and, cringing, she looked down at herself. "Do I look all right? Horrible? Go on, be brutal. I can it take."

Still looking down, she absently smoothed her hands over the front of her gown. Not that it mattered that she wasn't looking at his blank stare, since unlike her he couldn't mask what he was feeling. So he let his emotions run wild as he looked her from head to toe, wondering just when and where she had picked this number up.

It was a floor-length gown made from a deep blue material that matched her eyes. The design was simple; jewel neck collar, no sleeves, no visible darts or seams. The modesty of the torso gave way at the skirt, which was slit up the side practically to her hip. Along the edges of the slit and the hem of the skirt were rows of white crystals, and there was another row around the collar. There were more crystals on her shoulder, spilling down the front at an angle and spreading out before fading, like a wave. A matching splash of crystals was on the opposite side at her hip, just above the slit.

Throttle didn't know what kind of fabric the gown was made of, but it was stretchy and paper-thin and hugged her body close and tight as can be--the most unforgiving kind of fabric a girl could wear. The kind that displayed every last line and curve in a way where she couldn't hide them if she wanted to. But since the Imeeran wearing it was toned and flawless, all that was displayed was perfection.

Still, Tamerin fidgeted uncertainly...although by now she had picked up on his reaction. "Come on, don't just stare at me," she said wryly. "Or should I take your silence and weird combination of confusion and lust as a good sign?"

Throttle pulled himself out of his daze and finally answered--just not with words. Swooping forward, he put his arms around her, picked her up off her feet and seated her on the arm of the couch. Tamerin let out a yelp of surprise, which was muffled by his mouth clamping over hers. She was too startled to protest as he locked his arms around her, pressing his torso--and pelvis--against hers, which was easy enough to do thanks to that slit in her skirt. He was just pressing a hand to the small of her back, bringing her even closer, when a horn honked out front.

Tamerin made another sound as his hungry mouth left hers and drifted down her throat. "It's time to go," she faltered, shivering.

Growling, Throttle nipped at her throat. "The second we get home..."

His mate let out a shaky chuckle, shivering again as she casually hooked a leg around his back. "Go easy undressing me, all right? My mother made a huge fuss about me buying this thing and she'd have a fit if you tore it."

She paused. "On second thought, could you rip it off with your teeth? Then I can blame it on you when she asks why I never wear it anymore."

Throttle's grin was sly as he lifted his head and looked at her. "Who said anything about taking it off?"

* * *

When they arrived at the base, things looked about how Throttle imagined they would. A large room had been reserved for the occasion, with banquet tables lined up along one wall, each of them packed with various dishes that guests could serve themselves, smorgasbord-style. Tables for sitting and dining at were set in another area, and there was plenty of floor space for guests to move around, or stand and talk. There were wine bottles on ice and glasses for toasting and even a microphone set out for anyone who wanted to make a speech.

One thing he hadn't let on about (he didn't have the heart) was that as pulse-poundingly amazing as his mate looked right now, she was a little overdressed. Most of the senior officers were wearing their uniforms, while those of lower rank were wearing suits, but non-military guests were dressed decently yet relatively casual. In fact, the only one around that night who matched her level of class was Modo, who showed up dressed in an expensive tux he must have brought from Earth. Ashlin was wearing a dark green cocktail dress; she clung to his arm adoringly as they walked in.

Throttle kept his arm tightly around Tamerin most of the night, and not just because of the way she looked. Aside from the gown, she was wearing heels in a matching blue, and had her shoulder-length hair styled in soft waves, with one side clipped back. Instead of the earrings she usually wore she had put in glittering white studs that matched the crystals on her gown. And on her wrist was the chain bracelet adorned with his old earring. Always.

More than one head turned when they first stepped into the room, and while she had attracted attention before, he felt especially protective tonight. He tightened his hold on her as they went and mingled, talking first with Modo and Ashlin, then Vinnie and Charley--the latter worrying about how their babies were doing and the former teasing her over it. Rimfire was there too, but Bevra had chosen to stay home with Astrid.

Tamerin was annoyed. "She's not here? She better take my word that I actually wore this darn thing."

"Don't worry, I'll tell her for you," Rimfire promised, chuckling. "You look lovely, by the way."

"Awww, thanks, Junior Dad."

Throttle snickered; Rimfire flushed and scurried off to a buffet table. The atmosphere in the room was casual, and Throttle was starting to relax--and then the guest of honor walked in.

Silence immediately fell. Every last non-civilian jerked straight and stood at attention--a few civilians, too. Anyone sitting leaped to their feet. Throttle had been anticipating Carbine to look solemn in her first moments as a non-active member of the military, but instead she looked calm, comfortable, and relaxed--more relaxed than he could remember seeing her. She gave a soft chuckle. "At ease, everyone--and that's officially the last time I'm ever saying that. Which means the next time someone jumps up when I walk in, I get to tell them to calm the hell down."

Laughter rippled across the room. Everyone relaxed and casual conversation resumed, while the now ex-general moved about the room, mingling with her guests and former men. She was wearing her dress uniform, which Throttle couldn't remember if he'd ever seen before. It consisted of a loose-fitting tunic, gray slacks, slick black boots and an equally slick black belt. The tunic was decorated with numerous medals and badges.

She looked different. Her hair had grown out a little since he last saw her, hanging low on her back and her bangs were thicker and longer than they used to be. But slightly longer hair wasn't what struck him; it was her whole demeanor. He would have expected her to loathe stepping down from her beloved position, no matter what the reason, but she was positively glowing. She looked laid-back and happy, like she couldn't be more content with the direction her life was heading.

It left him feeling more puzzled than ever, but he tried not to let it show--especially when Carbine inevitably made her way over. Tamerin was still at his side, munching on a piece of fruit; she discreetly gave his hand a squeeze as his ex reached them. "You seem well," said Tamerin, saving him from having to think of something to say. "Very at peace with yourself."

She spoke casually, but her words seem to flatter the now retired leader. Carbine smiled softly. "Thank you. I certainly feel at peace with myself these days. More so than I have in a long, long time."

Her dark eyes shifted to Throttle, her smile broadening. "You, on the other hand, look a little stifled. But then you never did like formal events."

She let out a chuckle, and Tamerin smiled politely...but Throttle was bristling in irritation. Here he was feeling like his ex had turned into someone he barely recognized, and she was giving him a look that clearly said that he hadn't changed a bit. Same o', same o'. He kept his annoyance out of his expression, but there wasn't any hiding it from a certain someone. She drew closer to him and drew the backs of her fingers up and down his arm in a soothing manner.

Carbine only stayed to chat for another minute or so before moving on. Tamerin kissed his cheek. "You're too tense. Come on, have some fruit."

"No thanks. You know they've been soaked in alcohol, right?" he asked, as his mate popped the last of a juicy red berry into her mouth.

She stopped chewing and made face. "Were they? I've been eating them for a while now and I haven't..."

Throttle snickered as Tamerin trailed off with a squirm and a grimace, then scurried for the nearest exit. When she came back she smacked his arm. "That's for laughing at me, and for not telling me that sooner. Now come on, I'm hungry."

Most of the other guests were sitting down and eating at this point, so Throttle followed her to the buffet tables before taking a seat near his bros and their spouses. A little later on, different officers and a few other guests started getting up and making send-off speeches at the mike, reminiscing about old times and wishing their permanently off duty leader the best. Finally, Carbine made her way to the mike, though she kept her farewell speech short and to the point. The decision to step down was long coming and timely, she said, and the best decision for all involved. She showered praise on her men and warned them to behave once she was gone...but she didn't drop any hints about exactly why she was retiring so suddenly.

Still, her brief speech concluded to thunderous applause. Afterward the person in charge of the sound system must have decided there had been enough speeches delivered, because the microphone was taken away and chintzy instrumental music started playing. Practically elevator music. Throttle's rock-loving ears did not approve.

As the evening wore on, the buffet tables grew empty, more and more wine glasses were filled and then drained, conversation grew louder, and laughter more boisterous. After all, it _was_ a party, and the kind of place where he and his bros would ordinarily let loose and have some fun, but the three of them didn't get to hang out for very long. Vinnie left shortly after Carbine's speech finished--at Charley's insistence--and Modo was keeping a close eye on Ashlin. Against his advisement, she had been sampling the wine. She couldn't make up her mind which one she liked best, so she ended up trying a little of every flavor available. When Modo finally pulled her away, she had a case of the hiccups and the giggles.

Throttle wasn't sure when he showed up, but he suddenly spotted Nitro mingling in the crowd, presumably invited as a gesture of goodwill. When Ashlin saw him, she scampered, giggling, to give him a hug.

It looked like there were other rats roaming about, but Throttle had to wonder if any of them had received an invitation. Underdweller rats had a habit of going wherever they wanted to, whether they were invited or not. Tamerin, who often went with Ashlin when she visited her father--in one of the locations outside their main city, that is--suddenly stepped away from his side with a chuckle. "I'm going to go say hi."

As she walked away from him, hips swaying, numerous eyes shifted to watch, some belonging to a mouse in uniform and some not. Throttle saw one of them get up from his seat, like he was thinking about going over and making a move, and felt like knocking him flat. "You sure you don't want me to go with you?"

Tamerin paused and turned around, laughter in her eyes and affection bubbling in her heart. She scurried back and cupped his face in her hands. "You are so damn _cute_ when you're being protective," she purred.

"Do you have to say that so loud?" he asked, as she kissed him noisily. "It's not good for my pride."

Laughing out loud now, his mate gripped his shoulders and spun him around. "Then get out of here and go take a walk or something," she ordered, pushing him in the direction of one of the exits. "You've looked like you've needed some air ever since we got here."

She swaggered off to say hello to Nitro, and Throttle, knowing that she could punch out anyone who got too cozy, decided that heading out for a breather would probably do him some good. Come to think of it, he hadn't seen the guest of honor in a while either; it had gotten rowdier in the last half-hour as the effects of the wine took hold, so he hadn't noticed until now.

The large room had multiple exits; he slipped out a side door and out into an empty hallway, which was noticeably cooler than the stuffy reception room. He paused to take a deep breath, stretching his arms a bit--and stopped in surprise.

He wasn't the only one who'd come out here for some air. Standing at the far end of the hall, half-hidden in shadow created by the auxiliary lighting, was a very familiar figure. She was standing so her profile faced him, so she didn't notice him, and Throttle didn't want her to. He found himself stepping silently back, keeping himself out of her line of sight. He wasn't sure why; just one of those quick decisions a body made solely on instinctive reflex. He could tell by the she was standing there, so quiet and patient, that she was waiting for someone.

And when he showed up, Throttle didn't see him at first. Not until Carbine tilted her head back, the warmest of smiles spreading across her face, did he realize that someone had come up behind her. He could barely make out his black form in the shadows, but he recognized him from all the times he'd seen him with Nitro. That enormous rat they called Poison. He had no idea that he and Carbine knew each other.

They obviously did--and very, very well. The look on Carbine's face as he rested his broad hands on her shoulders and gazed down at her said that she had been waiting all night to see him. And while it was hard to make out his face, his body language made it clear that Poison was every bit as happy to see her. His touch as he moved his hands down her arms was familiar and intimate. Tender. Loving.

And then he did the strangest thing. He placed those large hands of his on her stomach, which was flat underneath her gray-green tunic. And yet he was cupping his hands in such a way, it was like he was imagining that her belly was much larger. And Carbine was placing her hands over his, entwining their fingers, her eyes shining even in the dim light, like she was eagerly imagining the same thing.

And then, in one fell swoop, it all made sense.

By the time Throttle had turned around and hurried silently back to the party, Tamerin was already waiting for him. Having sensed his very abrupt spike of emotions--shock, confusion, amazement, and a plethora of other things he couldn't even name--she had taken a look at what was bothering him, the action reflexive. Protective. She had seen exactly what he had just seen, and while for a brief second he was embarrassed...he let that feeling go. He was glad he didn't have to explain what was wrong. Tamerin already understood. She understood everything, and when she lifted her arms out to him, he went to them gratefully.

The elevator music wasn't exactly made for dancing, but neither of them cared right now. It let them camouflage what was really going on, and so Throttle absently took his mate's hand in his as she tightened her arm around his back. Over her shoulder, he saw Ashlin watching them from across the room. Even though she was still a little tipsy, he could tell by the concern in her dark eyes that she had seen right through their act. She didn't know why he was upset, but she immediately decided to help them with their cover and tugged Modo out onto the floor.

Throttle flashed them both a grateful smile. Sweet, thoughtful sis, he thought, before resting his head against Tamerin's and closing his eyes as they vaguely shuffled and swayed to the music. She didn't say anything, and neither did he; he just let his emotions run their course. And they, like his memories, traveled to places he didn't really want them to.

His mind was replaying days gone by--happy times, followed closely by frustration. It had been frustrating and hurtful to him that his former relationship had never progressed in the way his heart once longed for it to. There was always that block present, that devotion to duty that prevented them from achieving the kind of closeness he wanted. Before they parted ways for good, it had been painfully clear to him that his ex had never wanted--and never would want--the kind of things he _did_ want. A love that came before anything else, a home together, falling asleep in each other's arms every night.

He had moved on and then some since then, but now--even though he tried not to--he found himself feeling hurt all over again, and maybe even a little insulted. Carbine had made it very clear that she never wanted to retire, never wanted to settle down, and she _never_ wanted to have kids. Yet now, she had exactly all the things she made clear beyond all doubt there was no place for in her life--or maybe, he suddenly realized, no place for in her life with _him_.

Obviously, she was willing to make room for those things if there was someone else in her life--the _right_ someone. And he couldn't help but think...what made _him_ so special? What had Poison said and done that he hadn't that enabled him to change her mind so completely?

Of course, that wasn't a question he needed to have answered, and knew he never would. He didn't even need to wonder; he had everything he ever wanted and then some right here in his arms. But after what he had just learned, comparing it to what--and who--he had known...it was impossible not to wonder. Fortunately, Tamerin didn't mind. She gently caressed the back of his head as his thoughts continued to wander, combing her fingers into his hair in the way she knew always calmed him. He kissed her temple before resting his cheek against her crown again.

And then another thought quietly crept into his brain, as he found himself looking back on all the ways his ex had disappointed him; no doubt he had done the same to her. There must have been plenty of times where she felt let down, and like he didn't match up to what she really wanted. And now, if during a point in her life where she was probably least expecting it she had suddenly found exactly what she'd been needing...then there really wasn't anything left for him to say. Except that he wished the best for them.

"I hope they'll be happy," he said quietly. And he meant it.

"I think they will be," Tamerin said in return. "Poison can seem overwhelming when you first meet him, but he's a good guy."

She paused, then went on to say, "He can be surprisingly gentle, or as harsh as you'd expect. And somehow, he always seems to know exactly when he should be one or the other."

Throttle could maybe understand how Poison had obtained something he never could, then. As time went on, he had felt less and less like he knew how to approach Carbine. He never knew when he was going to end up saying something she didn't want to hear.

A chorus of chuckles suddenly sounded, pulling him from his thoughts. He opened his eyes to see that other guests, some of them a little more than just tipsy, had stumbled out onto what had become the dance floor. Over their heads, he saw Modo heading for the main exit, cradling his petite wife in his arms. She had a happy smile on her face and looked like she was firmly entrenched in dreamland.

Throttle chuckled along with the others, then smoothed his hand over his mate's hair. She lifted her eyes and searched his for a moment. "Are you going to be all right?"

He smiled and gave her hand a squeeze. "Yeah. I'm happy for them. I really am."

She smiled back and planted a quick kiss on his mouth. "I know you are. I am too."

Wrapping her arms around his neck and resting her head on his shoulder, they continued their shuffling, elevator music dance a little longer--and then Tamerin stopped and picked her head up again as something occurred to her. "I almost forgot," she said, her tone and mood turning wry, "you need to take me home and help me not get undressed."

Throttle laughed softly and moved his arm around her waist, turning her to the door. "I'm not really in the mood for that anymore, actually. But I'll definitely take a rain check."

"So, you want me to keep this flashy thing so I can put it on the next time you feel like horsing around?"

Throttle merely grinned and tightened his hold on her as they left the reception together. The outer hallways were quiet as they made their way out of the base, which better suited where his mood had settled. It had been an unexpectedly eye-opening night, but as he and his beloved mate headed home, he genuinely hoped that his ex and her new family would be happy from now on--all three of them.

For Carbine, a brand new beginning had started tonight. Throttle knew all about starting over. And he had learned that everything, especially relationships, had the potential to be greater the second time around.


	9. Unbreakable

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's a quiet day and Carbine takes Tamerin and Ashlin out to show them some of the progress mice have made in recent months, many miles away from the main city...and then something unexpected happens.
> 
> Takes place a number of months after the previous tangent. Rated PG.

"So? What do you think?"

Staring up at the structure that, to her, seemed to stretch for miles above her head, Tamerin wasn't sure that she _could_ think. It's design was simple and streamline, with mutiple ladders attached to the outside of its cylindrical shape and catwalks connected to the various entrances and exits that led in and out of different rooms, the catwalks themselves leading out to other, similar structures. The one she was looking up at was the largest and tallest, and the roof of it, at least in her eyes, practically brushed the sky.

She knew it really wasn't that tall, but reality was starting to warp, to the point where it felt like she was going to fall and the yawning space she was staring into was going to swallow her up. Groaning quietly, she doubled over and crouched down, balancing on the balls of her feet as she leaned forward so low, her forehead almost touched the ground.

She could feel the presence of her two companions on either side of her, along with the weight of their eyes as they looked down at her. "What exactly are you doing?" asked Carbine, her tone both dry and curious.

"Admiring the composition of the soil. What the hell do you think?"

Ashlin, who knew all about her little problem, wordlessly knelt down and rubbed a soothing hand over her back before coaxing her to stand. "Come on. Keep your eyes on the ground and you'll be fine."

The small Martian kept a firm grip on her arm as she led her away, back across the paved lot to where the normal-sized buildings were. Carbine followed behind them, and even without looking at her, Tamerin could tell she was amused. "You know, when I first heard the word aeroacrophobia, I thought it was a fear of flying acrobats."

Rolling her eyes, Tamerin didn't respond. Ashlin hid a smile.

"And why would the tower bother you?" the former military leader went on. "You're safely on the ground _looking_ at a high, open place, not actually _in_ a high, open place. It's not like you can fall upward."

"It's a phobia. It's not supposed to make sense."

Throttle didn't understand it either, and teased her about it sometimes...but he was also trying to help her get rid of the problem, and as painlessly as possible. She still had her moments, but she was definitely showing signs of improvement.

The tower in question had been part of the tour of the new outpost Carbine was taking them on. Right now, the place was small and occupied by only a handful of research and exploration teams, but someday, there could potentially be families and businesses growing here. A new village populated by mice.

Circling the lot were the different work stations, plus dining and recreation areas, washrooms and sleeping quarters, and of course the different observation towers. The one Carbine had just shown them was the largest and tallest, housing different forms of research equipment--not to mention, if need be, a special section at the very top that could be used as a sniper tower. Just because things were peaceful these days didn't mean mice weren't going to take precautions.

Everything was quiet today, since most of the workers were either inside, out exploring somewhere, or off visiting some other facility. There were plenty of them cropping up these days, and most had one very specific use in mind. It was that very use that had inspired Carbine to invite them both on the tour today, since the progression of certain things was a cause for excitement for her.

Looking back on recent history, Tamerin thought it was kind of funny that now, out of everyone she knew, she and Ashlin were the two that Carbine wanted to spend time with like this, and share the things that were important to her. But after Tamerin had seen how she went out of her way to make sure Ashlin was kept comfortable and treated with respect, she had warmed to her considerably, and once Poison had entered the picture and claimed the willful mouse as his own, any hint of frostiness lingering between them had vanished completely.

Her budding friendship with Ashlin didn't stem so much from Ashlin's job at the military base as it did from the fact that Carbine now had, as Ashlin did, the freedom to come and go from the underdweller rats' city whenever she wanted. She had a secondary home near her fellow mice, a small place she slept at sometimes when she visited, but her primary residence was now with her husband, whom she had married months ago in a traditional rat ceremony. Tamerin had been intrigued...but since it was held in the undercity she was only allowed to go to the reception they had later.

Since Poison and Nitro were the best of friends, they were usually together at some point or another when Ashlin went to see her father. So it was only natural for Ashlin and Carbine to see a lot of each other these days, and even though they had very different personalities, they had really hit it off lately. Tamerin had no reason to complain; it was good for her little girl to be close to someone who had so much influence and commanded so much respect. It would--hopefully--help keep her safe.

When they reached the part of the lot where all the vehicles were parked, Tamerin perked up. "Are we done here? We should go bug the guys for a while."

As she spoke, she hopped onto the back of her midnight blue bike. The invitation Carbine extended this morning had included their significant others, and Charley and Vinnie too, if they were interested...but everyone else had other plans today. Charley had--surprise, surprise--taken the day off and closed the garage, and when Tamerin last saw her she was packing up both of her babies and heading off for a relaxing day at the park.

Her rambunctious husband had ridden away hours earlier, citing a need to have a good ol' rough, wild day out with his bros. Not that it was only his bros who ended up joining their little party. Nitro and Poison were both in town today, and they had each laughed at the childish enthusiasm of the three mice, and then, after exchanging sly, knowing smirks, Nitro asked his old friend if he was up to 'showing the soft kids how it's done.'

Throttle and the others got riled up over less, so it wasn't long before the five of them were tearing out beyond city limits, making enough noise for fifty.

With the males out of the picture, Tamerin thought of calling her mother to make it a female foursome, but Rimfire was finally back on patrol duty and since all of her most trusted babysitters had just left town, she decided to stick close to home and watch Astrid. Mom wanted to start taking her fragile daughter on small trips soon, but not yet. The outpost was pretty far from home and Tamerin could understand why she didn't want to risk having Astrid travel that kind of distance.

It had been less than a year since she was born, but her baby sister's well-being had become second nature to them all. The first six months of her life were the hardest, especially when she started moving around more--and started getting injured more as a result. At first her parents' hearts broke with each new fracture they found...but as time went on, they both came to realize--and better accept--that this was the reality of their daughter's life, and always would be. Keeping her from ever getting hurt was impossible. And her mother pointed out one day that it was only by struggling could something grow strong one day. They were just going to have to deal with her injuries as they came.

Tamerin didn't think her baby sister was ever going to be anything close to something that could be called strong, but after she reached six months old, she didn't look as shatteringly delicate as she did when she first came home from the hospital. She finally put on a few pounds, and when she was taken in for a routine scan, the results showed that her bones had become a little denser. Not by a whole lot, but it was something. And her big silver eyes were as bright and alert as ever.

When Astrid was first brought home, Rimfire had proudly explained about the special connection the two of them shared--how he could pick up what his daughter was feeling with his antennae. Which, as his mate had noted wryly, made it so he was the one who jumped out of bed when Astrid started crying in the middle of the night. Although while being able to sense a child's emotions over small distances was definitely something new, Imeerans were able to do the same by touch--which did away with a lot of the guess-work non-empathic beings had to deal with. All you had to do was pick your baby up and you could usually figure out without too much trouble if he or she was hungry, scared, needed a diaper change, or just wanted to be held.

But as proud as Rimfire was about how uniquely Astrid was Daddy's Little Girl...it didn't take long to figure out that the phenomenon actually wasn't unique to her father. Any antennae-wielding mouse within about ten feet or so could pick up on what she was feeling--and that was just the range she started with. It was a completely involuntary act, but Tamerin suspected that as she grew older and her empathic abilities became stronger, she would be able to control who she did and didn't transmit her feelings to, and as her mind grew, so would her range.

The first time Astrid's trio of big brothers figured out that they could feel what she was feeling was kind of a shock. After that...it was a riot. One afternoon while they were all relaxing in her mother and Rimfire's rec room together the little thing started fussing in her room down the hall...and the next thing she and Mom knew, Astrid's father and three large, furry bikers were lying in a heap on the floor after jumping to their feet and colliding all at once. Her mother had nonchalantly hopped over their prone, groaning bodies and hurried to take care of her baby.

Tough and macho as they liked to act, they all had giant soft spots, so when that helpless little being started crying, and broadcasted her unhappiness to anyone within receiving distance, it brought them all running. Not to mention Astrid had an especially tiny, pitiful-sounding cry. The kind of sound that made anyone with a sliver of a heart want to cuddle her until her tears went away.

Too much cuddling and affection was still out, and probably always would be, but around the same time her bones started showing signs of improvement, Mom decided that Astrid needed to be around more than just her parents. Her big-hearted brothers were all but petrified when they first found themselves saddled with babysitting duties, but they soon figured out that the tiny being wasn't going to fall apart just by being held. And since Tamerin was her nearest blood relative, she and Throttle ended up watching her the most. Naturally.

Michio had already adopted Ako as his unofficial little brother, so having someone else around to look after made him feel proudly important. Tamerin worried at first that she would have to drill it into him just how fragile her new sister was, but her hyper-active little boy surprised her. He used to come tearing through their home with Ako in his arms, but now that he was almost five years old, Ako had grown and was strong enough to race around on his own four feet. She was pretty sure he could outrun her own fleet-footed son these days, and the two of them would race around together, wild as anything...until they realized Astrid was asleep in the crib they'd set up near her and Throttle's bedroom. They would go so quiet and step so softly, you'd think they were a different pair of hyper boys entirely.

And speaking of hyper boys...Tamerin was ready to ride out of here and go see if she could catch up to her mate and the others. But as she glanced over her shoulder, Carbine looked like she had something else on her mind. "You haven't seen the new freight yard yet," she noted with a frown. She paused next to Tamerin's bike to rub the small of her back.

Beside her, Ashlin wore an eager smile. "I'd love to go," she said, adjusting the bag slung over her shoulder. "I don't think I've ever seen anything that has to do with trains before."

Tamerin felt a loving smile tease at her lips. "Sure you have. Remember that CTA your husband and his buddies always ignore when they're racing around Chicago?"

Ashlin's eyes brightened with interest. "Ohhh, _that's_ what that was."

Her smile growing, Tamerin dismounted her bike. How could she say no when her little girl gave her that look? Mass transit wasn't something she was all that familiar with herself, since they didn't need any on Malteria what with everything in walking distance within their lone city. Small vehicles were kept at the military base, but only for emergency purposes.

Still, she had learned during her years as an off world scout that whenever a planet started developing methods to transport large amounts of goods--or people--it was a sign of progress.

In the last few months, more outposts had been built than ever, and it had become necessary to start sending more and more supplies out to them, plus they had information and samples of what they were studying to send back to the city. Inevitably, someone suggested they start rebuilding something that had been destroyed back at the start of the war; rail lines. Things had rapidly taken shape from there.

It would be many months--maybe even a few years--before the yard was actually operational, since it wasn't as new as it was newly under construction. But it was still progress, and it had Carbine excited. It was a big step forward.

And it wasn't an achievement reserved strictly for mice, either. The other races of Mars were invited to make use of the lines as well, if they needed to. No one knew what the future held, but the offer stood that if they wanted to, there would be room when the yard was finished for further lines to be installed, leading to places not owned by mice. The freight yard could potentially become a place of neutrality someday.

Tamerin had already offered to teleport a few supplies and able-bodied workers from Malteria to lend a hand, but the suggestion had been politely refused. Her mouse neighbors were grateful for all the assistance Imeerans had given them, but now, they were going to do things on their own. Tamerin quite understood.

"All right," she agreed, as she reluctantly left her bike. "If you two think you're up to it."

She wasn't addressing Ashlin and Carbine, but Carbine and the little one she was carrying around with her. Make that lugging. With a roll of her eyes, the former General put a hand on her bulging middle as she continued to rub her back. "Don't _you_ start," she groused. "He isn't due for another month-and-a-half."

Carbine turned and started across to the west side of the lot in surprisingly long, strong strides. Still, she didn't look much like she used to, since she was dressed in comfortable brown canvas shoes like any mouse housewife, a pair of dark gray leggings, and a silky tunic-style blouse that offered her belly plenty of room and hung low over her hips. Her black hair shone in the afternoon light. Tamerin thought she looked especially pretty today.

With a small laugh, Ashlin scurried to catch up. "Don't worry, I'm always prepared," she said, adjusting the strap of her medical bag again. "Just in case."

The cute little doctor's assistant was dressed in her usual attire: blue jeans, a snug tank top under a loose long-sleeved t-shirt that slipped down off her soft shoulders, her belt covered in pouches and compartments stuffed with tools. Smiling with affection again, Tamerin followed after them.

Leading out from the west side of the outpost was part of the very first rail line. Naturally, it wasn't finished yet, but a much smaller rail had already been completed, and it operated as a transport for builders and crewmen heading to and from the yard. Next to the small platform they stepped out onto was a low car, attached to the small rail and designed so it would travel along in either direction, with two sets of bench seats that could seat two each. The driver politely helped Carbine into the front, while Tamerin settled next to Ashlin in the back.

The trip was a long one, but swift. The wheelless vehicle propelled along the rail at a good clip, causing their hair to whip and snap in the wind and their eyes to squint. The portion of the desert they were crossing was pretty barren, so there wasn't much to see except sand and dunes, and a few mountains in the far distance. Shading her eyes, Tamerin half-hoped she would see some sign of bike exhaust out there, but everything was quiet. Too bad when they were this far apart she didn't get to feel a faint hint of Throttle's presence, like he could feel hers.

When they reached the end of the line and pulled to a clunky stop, Tamerin didn't think the place looked so much like a freight yard as it did a bone yard. Piles and sections of loose rails were lying everywhere, waiting to be installed, the raw frameworks of buildings were being built up, with little more in place than the foundation and a few iron rods and beams pointing skyward.

The largest building, which would store empty freight cars someday, had a bit more progress than the others, with most of the walls for the ground floor in place and part of the roof put up. Things were pretty noisy as they got out of the car; the sound of voices calling out instructions in the distance, the clatter and bang of tools, the loud hum of machinery.

Carbine took to the head of their little group, walking briskly across the main part of the yard to meet the foreman who had come out to greet them. He had been expecting them and happily showed them around, but there really wasn't a whole lot to see yet. Just a lot of gesturing to otherwise empty areas while discussing with the former General what would be there someday. Tamerin honestly found it all kind of boring.

She made sure not to say so, since Ashlin was so intrigued she had taken out her data pad and was making notes, and asking curious questions as they moved out of the yard and into the skeletal beginnings of the main building. The floor they started across was a rough metal that clanged loudly beneath their feet, echoing through the cement basement underneath, which was visible between the many gaps in the floor sections. From the look of it, there were going to be numerous sub basements, too.

"Careful where you step," the foreman advised, "some of these sections have only been partly bolted down."

It sounded like only one or two workers were in here with them right now. The foreman and Carbine drifted to a stop near a set of stairs, where they continued to discuss plans and different layout ideas--and then a loud bang that rattled the floor interrupted them. Then there was yelling.

Loud, pain-filled yelling, followed by a barrage of expletives. Ashlin flushed and hid her face behind her data pad.

Clearing his throat, the foreman peered down the metal stairwell. "Everything all right down there?"

After a pause, a concerned voice called up, "The frame we were working shifted and pinned his arm. I got it loose, but it looks like it's broken. He's bleeding pretty bad, too."

Ashlin didn't need to hear any more. She was already scurrying downstairs with the foreman close at her heels. Tamerin stayed with Carbine who, after taking a look at how the stairs swayed while in use, decided to stay put.

A few minutes later the two of them came back up from the basement, carefully holding up a groaning mouse between them. One of his arms was bandaged and he had a jacket draped over his shoulders. Another crewman was following close behind them, looking worried. "I did all I could for him," Ashlin said when the four of them reached the landing, her face lined with concern. "He needs more help than I can give."

Just as she finished speaking, a loud buzzer sounded outside, echoing into the distance. Tools went quiet, machinery shut down, and cheerful voices chattered as vehicle engines fired up and drove off. When they were gone, everything was silent. "Guess it's lunchtime," the foreman said grimly.

"Are there any vehicles left?" Tamerin wondered.

"Just our bikes," said the injured mouse's unhappy friend. His companion groaned again.

"There's still the car we came in," Ashlin quickly suggested.

"Go on," Carbine urged. "Take it. We can wait."

They didn't need a lot of prodding. Since it could only seat four, the driver came to help them get the injured worker to the car, while his buddy ran to get his bike and ride into the city ahead of them. Tamerin didn't have any problem waiting until the car was sent back, but Ashlin, who had been ready to sit beside her patient, suddenly hesitated.

Carbine quickly realized who she was worrying about and why, and gave her a weary look. "I'm fine," she insisted, her tone getting testy. "It won't kill me to sit around and wait for half an hour. So go on, keep an eye on the poor guy."

Still, Ashlin promised to come back with the driver to pick them up as soon the injured mouse was sent safely off to the hospital. And after they were finally gone, the two former Generals got ready to settle down and wait...but realized unhappily that there really wasn't any place to sit. "Don't they have benches for the work crews?" Carbine grumbled, as the two of them moved away from the rickety stairs.

"Doesn't look like it," Tamerin responded, after doing a scan of the large, unfinished room. She wouldn't mind standing, or sitting on the ground, but an expectant mother should be made a little more comfortable.

Anything could serve as a seat in a pinch--a bucket, or a lunchbox--but the wide metal floor looked empty. The weather was nice, so the next logical step was to head outside and find someplace where they could get comfortable out in the yard. Carbine had come to the same conclusion, and they both turned toward one of the empty spaces where a wall would one day be. And that was when Tamerin heard a snap.

It was loud and sharp and made an echo. And the next thing she knew, the floor was being pulled out from under them--swinging down like a trap door on hinges. For a second she slid, and then she was falling--and before she had finished registering what was happening, she had landed.

She hadn't fallen far, but it was a hard enough jolt when she hit to rattle her teeth and make her head spin. She had bitten her tongue, too. Not that she cared about herself in the slightest right now.

The space they had landed in under the floor was shadowy, but Tamerin's eyes adjusted instantly as she sat up and twisted around, fearfully looking for Carbine. She quickly found her mere feet away, about the same distance they had been standing apart before the floor broke. She was half-sitting, half-lying on the hard cement floor, both hands cupping her large middle. Her eyes were watery and she had gone pale under her fur.

Tamerin scrambled over to her and pushed her hair back from her face, while her other hand automatically went to her belly. "Are you all right? Are you both all right?"

The weird look on Carbine's face was filling her with alarm. And while she proceeded to prod and feel along her stomach in a way that suggested she knew what she was doing...she really didn't. She knew battle injuries--gaping wounds, broken bones, laser burns, severed limbs. Pregnancy and related problems were out of her range of expertise.

Carbine's dark eyes gazed right through her as she answered weakly. "I-I don't know," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "I felt something just now. Something weird--almost like a tearing..."

Tamerin didn't need to be an expert to know that that wasn't good. She also knew that she needed to treat Carbine more gently than one of her own kind would need to be treated. She always heard that one of the most important things to remember in a situation like this was that the subject shouldn't be moved. Shifting them too much might end up making things worse, so her first instinct to pick the distressed mother up and carry her to someone who could help was out.

She at least wanted to make her more comfortable. So, very carefully, she lifted her and edged her back a few short inches to where she could lean against a support pillar. And it wasn't much, but she took off her jacket and put it under her so Carbine didn't have to sit directly on the hard floor.

And that was about all she could do, other than keep her calm until the others came back. But if worse came to worse, she was pretty sure she could help deliver her baby, and said so.

Carbine's reaction took her by surprise. Even in retirement, the female mouse was always strong, confident, fearless and commanding of any given situation. But that part of her nature was suddenly gone, overcome by something stronger: a mother frightened for the life of her unborn child.

She looked paler than ever as she sat up and grabbed Tamerin's arm, her eyes wide with fear. "It's too soon," she cried. "I went in for a checkup just the other day and the doctor said the baby hasn't turned yet. He wasn't worried--he's not due for over a month, but now..."

Her hand felt cold, and it shook as Tamerin gently took hold of it and held it in her own. "Now, we get through this any way we have to. I won't leave you, okay? And maybe it isn't as bad as we think."

But after another few minutes and a little more examination, they both knew it was just as bad as they first thought--if not worse. Carbine suddenly noticed that she felt wet and told her to take off her leggings to check. Tamerin did what she was told, pulling off her shoes to get to the leggings--and Carbine had her get rid of her undies while she was at it. Everything was soaked through with fluid. Clear fluid and blood.

She hesitated to bring up that second part, but Carbine spotted the streak of red staining her things as Tamerin set them aside and sharply demanded to know how much blood there was. "Not a lot," Tamerin said quickly. "No more than normal, I think."

She had never actually watched someone give birth before, so she wasn't sure. She knew someone who had seen plenty of births by now and wished like crazy that she was here. But as the minutes ticked on by, they remained alone. Carbine had turned silent, sitting pressed up against the pillar with her knees pulled up, hands gripping her middle tightly. Her face had gone from pale to flushed, her fur turning damp as she started to sweat. Her eyes were staring off into the distance again.

Tamerin was eyeing the way she was holding her stomach with a frown. "Does it hurt?"

Carbine nodded slightly.

"How badly?"

The former General's throat worked for a moment. "I don't know. Pretty badly. This is my first baby, I don't know if..."

She trailed off, noticing at almost the same time Tamerin did. There were footsteps approaching overhead--footsteps that pounded the ground as the person ran along, yet their steps still sounded small, showing that the runner had a slight weight.

They ran into the building and banged along the unreliable floor, then paused for a quick second--noticing the missing section, no doubt--before scurrying down the stairs. A second later, Tamerin saw Ashlin come running around a corner, out of breath.

"Are you two down here?" she called out, not seeing them sitting in the shadow of the pillar. "I got the weirdest feeling, so I..."

"We're over here," Tamerin told her, trying to keep her voice calm.

Ashlin soon found them and practically collapsed in Tamerin's arms as she quickly got up and reached out for her. "I don't know why but I got scared all of a sudden," she said, as she panted for breath. "I just had to come back and make sure you were okay."

"Where are the others? You didn't run all the way back, did you?"

"We were about half-way to the city. I told them to keep going without me."

"Did they stop so you could get out?"

Ashlin shook her head. "I jumped."

"You _jumped_?"

"And rolled. We weren't going as fast as when we came here."

She flashed a smile, while Tamerin gave her a blank look. She scoffed and hugged her tight. "I think a few of the bikers on this planet are a bad influence on you. But I can't tell you how glad I am that you're here."

She quickly explained what happened. Ashlin listened in grim silence, then abruptly moved to one side and started talking softly into her wrist communicator. When she hurried back to Tamerin's side a few minutes later, she told her in a hushed voice, "I told Rimfire what's happening."

"Rimfire?"

For a minute she felt blank--and then she remembered that her mother had given the young guard an Imeeran military communicator shortly after the two of them first met. Which meant he and Ashlin were the only two on Mars who currently possessed that form of communication aside from herself, and neither she or Ashlin carried another. They really needed to change that.

"They're who knows where right now, but...I'm hoping he'll be able to track down Poison."

"Ah."

Tamerin understood now. And Ashlin also understood that Carbine shouldn't be moved, so this wasn't a situation where they could wait for the driver to come back, get her to the nearest med crew and then let them handle it. They needed to deal with this themselves, right here and now.

Ashlin was soon kneeling at Carbine's side and prodding and feeling her stomach, but unlike Tamerin, she actually knew what she was doing. A deep frown touched her face. "Uh-oh."

Carbine blew a sweaty lock of hair away from her eyes and gave her a weary look. "What do you mean, 'uh-oh?' What's wrong?"

Ashlin quickly pulled her hands away and put on a smile. "You're sure you're having a boy, right?"

The older mouse's expression softened. "Uh-huh. At first we were going to keep it a surprise, but then Poison decided he really wanted to know. When the doctor told him we were having a boy, he got so happy I thought he was going to..."

Carbine suddenly stopped herself with a scowl. "Hey--don't change the subject. Whatever's going on, tell me. I'm not someone who feels better being left in the dark."

She fixed the hesitating rat-cross with a hard, determined look. "Whatever it is, I can handle it, okay? Just tell me and tell me plainly."

Ashlin gave a quiet nod. "All right. I'm afraid he's facing the wrong way."

Carbine had been expecting to hear as much, but a look of fear and panic passed through her eyes just the same. She pushed her emotions down and kept calm. "Can you do anything?"

Ashlin was already digging in her medical bag. Pulling out tools and lining them up on the ground. "I've never done it myself," she said, a slight quaver in her voice, "but I watched the doctor at the base do it a couple of times. Although..."

She paused, thinking, then suddenly turned her head and looked at Tamerin, who was sitting close by in case she was needed but making sure she stayed out of the way. Ashlin brightened. "Can I have your scanner?"

"Of course," said Tamerin, already pulling the fat stud out of her ear. She frowned as something occurred to her. "Did you lose yours?"

Ashlin's ears darkened. "No," she mumbled, bending over her bag. "I stopped wearing it because I didn't like how it looked with my ear cuff. The hole closed up."

"Then how are you going to wear it?" Tamerin asked dryly.

"You'll just have to hold it for me," Ashlin told her.

They didn't have much choice. After switching the digital beam on, Tamerin scooted so she was sitting behind the small Martian and positioned the beam so it fell over her eyes. She had to grip the edge of her large ear to keep her hand steady. With her gaze fixed on her patient, Ashlin reached back to pinch the stud, altering the setting until she had the one she wanted. Tamerin couldn't see what she was seeing, but she assumed that she was trying to pull up a digital outline of Carbine's unborn baby.

Suddenly, she felt Ashlin go stiff. "Oh. Oh, dear."

Carbine had been keeping still and quiet, but now she grunted and brushed her hand over her sweaty eyes. "What now?" she demanded.

Ashlin was chewing her lip. Through the hand she had rested on her shoulder, Tamerin could feel that her confidence had dropped considerably, and her heart was racing in worry. "Um...it looks like we're dealing with a uterine rupture."

Carbine didn't look like she knew what that meant any more than Tamerin did. "A what?" the pained mouse asked sharply.

With a cringe, Ashlin sat back a little. "In plainer terms...he's put his foot through the womb."

The former General went blank. Tamerin's stomach knotted in sympathy pain. "Is that bad?" Carbine asked weakly.

Ashlin didn't answer right away, and Tamerin, knowing her better than the willful mouse, could tell solely by her silence that the situation could potentially be very, very bad. Lethal for both mother and child. The uncertainty and fear now coursing through her solidified this.

Giving herself a sudden shake that almost knocked Tamerin's hand from her ear, Ashlin leaned closer again. "Let me take another look."

And for several minutes marked by tense silence, she looked, changed settings, and looked some more. Despite the time it took her to finish, Tamerin got the sense that she was moving as fast as she could. That speed had suddenly become immeasurably important.

With a release of breath, Ashlin moved back again. "It's not as bad as I first thought," she reported. "The peritoneum is still intact, so no fluid is escaping."

Relief was short-lived, since this didn't change the fact that premature labor had been triggered, or the fact that the baby was still facing the wrong way. But Ashlin, ever respectful and attentive, wasn't going to proceed without permission or full understanding of what was involved. As she pulled a syringe out of her bag, she said, "This is the only painkiller I have, and it probably isn't going to help much. I have to warn you...none of this is going to feel good. I'm going to try and turn the baby by hand."

"I don't care."

Something in Carbine's eyes had changed. The frightened mother had joined with the fearless, commanding leader. Tamerin could tell that a decision had been made, and with it came a sense of calm. She was prepared to face anything she had to face. "Whatever it is you need to do? _Do it_. Do you understand me? No matter what happens--no matter what happens to _me_...save my baby."

Ashlin didn't need to be told twice. She was already rushing to get to work, setting out a meager supply of cloths to clean the baby with after he was born. There wasn't anything else, so she pulled off her outer t-shirt and placed it under Carbine's upturned knees. And then, with a small set of clippers she had, she proceeded to cut off the tips of her sharp claws.

When they were gone and her fingertips were blunt, she pulled on a pair of surgical gloves. Tamerin had let go of her ear and sat back with the earring scanner still in her hand while everything was prepared, and when Ashlin was finally ready, kneeling close to Carbine and moving her legs aside, Tamerin got behind her again and positioned the beam back over her eyes.

Tamerin kept silent as Ashlin quietly talked her patient through what she was doing. "This is probably going to be the worst part," she said softly, as Carbine bit back a cry of pain. "I have to push him back first before I can start turning him."

The young rat-cross' eyes barely blinked as she worked, sweat beading and falling from the tips of her bangs as her face creased in concentration. At first Carbine maintained her poise of I've-been-through-war-so-I-can-handle-anything, but as the minutes ticked by and the pain didn't get any better, her mood slowly but surely shifted to one of I-don't-care-how-much-noise-I'm-making-and-I-don't-care-who's-watching. Her eyes were squeezed tight and her face was red, and tears and sweat were streaming down her cheeks. She pounded at the floor and grappled for something to hold on to as she gasped for breath, but there was nothing there. Tamerin felt bad for her and wanted to move to her side so she could try to comfort her, but she couldn't leave her post as earring holder.

"You're doing great," Ashlin urged, gentle as ever. "He's about half-way there now."

Carbine leaned her head back against the pillar with a loud groan. Her eyes blinked open and fresh tears ran down her face...and Tamerin suddenly got the idea that they weren't strictly from pain. "Poison should be here right now," she whimpered, a sob in her voice. "When he finds out he missed this..."

She broke off and pressed the back of her hand to her mouth as a fresh cry sprang up. "You're going to feel a lot of pressure now," Ashlin warned her.

The small Martian worked quietly for another minute or so--and then she let out an exhale of breath. Through the hand she was still gripping her slender shoulder with, Tamerin felt that she had relaxed tremendously. "He's there," she reported, excited and relieved. "Everything's all right now. You can start pushing."

Instead of getting excited, Carbine seemed to deflate. Tamerin could just imagine how she felt; she and all her inner muscles were doubtlessly exhausted after all they'd just been through, and now she had to gather enough strength to push her child out into the world? Doubt flickered across her sweaty face, but Tamerin watched as she pushed it down and, ever determined, started bracing herself.

The sound might have been close enough for her to hear it sooner, but they were all so distracted right now, no one noticed until it was a loud, distinct hum in the distance. Tamerin lifted her head first, followed closely by Ashlin, listening curiously. It was definitely a bike engine--a really _big_ bike engine.

Tamerin wasn't touching her, but she didn't need to in order to know that Carbine's mood had just soared. Her face lit up, and she stretched her neck as she tried to look up out of the hole in the floor they had fallen through. The bike pulled up nearby, and when the engine cut, she started calling out.

An instant later there was a thunderous banging over their heads, and when Carbine called that she was 'down here,' a very large and shadow-black figure came dropping down the hole, landing neatly beside the three of them in a crouch. It all happened so suddenly Ashlin jerked back with a yelp.

That was the most noise Tamerin had ever heard Poison make.

All but oblivious to the two of them, he was gathering his wife in his arms, pulling her away from the pillar and holding her so she was resting against his side. He cradled her and kissed her face between whispered words of encouragement. Carbine looked so comfortable and at ease now, it was like her pain and distress had evaporated.

"You can start pushing now," Ashlin repeated, louder this time.

Arms still around her, Poison took hold of his wife's hands and held them tightly. "You can do it," he whispered, kissing her cheek again. "I'm right here with you."

Carbine nodded with a faint smile and, with renewed strength, braced herself again and started pushing. Ashlin coaxed her all the way through it, while Tamerin got back out of the way. The scanner wasn't needed anymore, so she put her earring back in and waited quietly until she was needed for something.

A few short minutes later, Carbine sank back against her husband with a quiet, relieved groan, while Ashlin carefully placed a crying, kicking baby rodent on her soft t-shirt and started cleaning him off. "He's definitely a boy," said Ashlin with a laugh, as Tamerin assisted her with tying off the cord. "He's perfect. He's just beautiful."

As their fingers brushed together while Ashlin picked the fussy, surprisingly strong little guy up, Tamerin felt that she was trembling a little. She was so happy and relieved, and tired...and deep down, envious.

Exhaustion had finally caught up to Carbine, so much so that she could barely keep her eyes open. "Just give me a minute," she mumbled, as Poison secured her against his side before, yellow eye shining with eagerness, he turned and held his large hands out. Ashlin gently placed his son in them. And for a long moment, the large sable rat just looked at him. Like Ashlin, the baby looked much more like a mouse than a rat, with a mouse's ears, nose, and muzzle. He definitely had a thick rat's tail, though, every bit as black as his father's. Right now he had pinkish-gray skin, but Tamerin imagined when his fur grew in, that would be black, too.

And as Poison tenderly brushed his fingers over his son's satin-soft cheek, Tamerin noticed something else; he had a mouse's face, but no antennae.

From the look on his face, it was clear that his father agreed with Ashlin. Poison thought his baby was perfect, and his love and protectiveness was plain as he held him closer and kissed his forehead. "My boy," he murmured.

"Do you have a name picked out?" Ashlin wondered. There wasn't anything else to use, so she was busy turning her stained t-shirt inside-out and backwards, so she could wrap the baby in it for now.

Poison smiled faintly, his gaze glued to his son. At his side, Carbine was still too tired to move, but her eyes were half-open and watching them, a look of bliss on her face. "We decided to call him Saber," her husband said.

Carbine gave a tiny, tired nod of affirmation; Poison handed Saber back to Ashlin so she could bundle him in her t-shirt. He had been fussing quietly the entire time, but as the young Martian gently cradled him in the crook of her arm and pulled the t-shirt around him, the unhappy sounds stopped. As Ashlin smiled and softly drew her hand over his antennae-less head, Saber's eyes blinked open for the first time.

They were big and bright, and yellowish like his father's, only they had a much deeper orange undertone. A brandywine color. Her own dark eyes full of affection, Ashlin kissed his tiny gray nose before passing Saber back to his father. Carbine was more alert now, and when she sat up Poison moved closer like he was going to put their son in her arms. But she shook her head.

Her dark eyes were on someone else. Ashlin was already cleaning up her tools and equipment, but when she realized that the former General was beckoning to her, she scooted closer curiously. Carbine wrapped her arms around her shoulders and pulled her into a tight hug. "I am never going to forget what you did for us today," she murmured solemnly. "We owe you both our lives."

Tamerin watched as her humble little girl turned pink and stammered in response, but Carbine was firm. While she continued to embrace her and shower her with praise, Poison eyed the two of them, then turned to Tamerin with a smirk. "They look busy. You want to hold him?"

Without waiting for a response, he placed his fidgeting son in her arms. Tamerin was surprised, but she didn't feel at all awkward as she adjusted her hold and cradled Saber against her chest, who yawned and closed his eyes. Poison, who had that knack of noticing everything, didn't fail to spot how natural handling a baby came for her. "It is true you're never having one of your own?"

Her cheeks warmed as she quickly shook her head. "A shame," he noted, before turning his attention back to his wife. Tamerin flushed again and kept silent as she sat back with Saber still in her arms.

When Carbine finally let go of Ashlin, Poison took his turn, hugging her close and whispering his gratitude. When they parted, Saber was passed to his mother, whose eyes moistened as she held him for the first time. Sniffling, she cuddled him and repeatedly kissed his sweet face. Tamerin didn't think she had ever seen Carbine look happier.

Ashlin finished cleaning up and together they moved away a little, leaving the happy family be. Ashlin looked pleased but exhausted, and she didn't protest as Tamerin put her arm around her and coaxed her to lean against her. "The others should be back soon," Tamerin noted. "Are you ready to go home?"

With her head on her shoulder and her eyes closed, Ashlin nodded. "Uh-huh," she said sleepily.

Tamerin smiled softly as she studied her face. After pressing a kiss to her forehead, she pulled her closer and put her other arm around her. "You know something?"

"Hm?" Ashlin mumbled drowsily.

"I'm so glad I found you."


	10. Desert Blossom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's something that two young Martians want very much to have. But life doesn't always go as planned. Rated PG.
> 
> Edited recently to include the lyrics of the song I listened to on non-stop repeat while writing it, but didn't when I first posted it because certain people were bitching at me about my song choices at the time...

_Distant child, my flower_  
 _Are you blowing in the breeze?_  
 _Can you feel me as I breathe life into you?_  
 _In a while, my flower, somewhere in a desert haze_  
 _I know one day, you'll amaze me_  
~Flower by Kylie Minogue

For Modo, having a child with Ashlin was never a matter of 'if,' but 'when.' From long before they got married it was something they both knew they wanted in their future, and it was always set in their minds that it would be part of their future together, as sure as the rising and setting of the sun. Still, having a baby of their own wasn't something they actively tried for right away, since they both were of the opinion that they'd know when the time was right to expand their little family--someday.

The desire for children was one that everyone in their lives was aware they shared, and from early on after their wedding they started receiving helpful tips, small gifts and plenty of teasing remarks. Tamerin-ma'am wryly reminded him once that they didn't need to get too carried away, since his sperm cells survived for so long. No point in flooding Ashlin's reproductive tract, she had cracked.

The comment had made him blush--as did the fact that even though she pointed out they didn't need to go overboard when trying to conceive, she at the same time encouraged intimate activity between him and his petite wife. It felt kind of funny--she _was_ Ashlin's unofficially adopted mother, after all--but she was of the firm opinion it was the least she could do to make up for her rude interruption, months ago. So from the time they were married and for long after, she slipped them both sultry gifts meant to inspire them--everything from seductively-scented candles to exotic bath salts to slinky lingerie.

He and Ashlin didn't really need encouragement with being intimate. After getting plenty carried away as newlyweds, the two of them settled happily into a routine of making love once a week. The idea of having a baby was always there, in the background somewhere, though Modo had a feeling that it was only a matter of time before that idea came roaring to the foreground--especially considering what kept going on around them. First came Joy, who was the sweetest baby anyone could ever hope to have, and every time Ashlin held her she practically turned green with envy.

And of course every time she went to Malteria to visit Deichan-ma'am she got to cuddle Dirk, and she always kept a watchful eye on fragile Astrid. The presence of these three sweet babies only served to solidify that desire he and Ashlin shared, but for a long while they enjoyed the family they already made together--himself, Ashlin, and Ako. The little guy was thrilled by the idea of being a big brother, and the thought continued to linger just at the back of his parents' minds...until little Saber was born.

His arrival was special in more ways than one. Not only had his birth left a personal impact on Ashlin, he embodied exactly what she wanted for her own child--a crossbreed born purely from a love that never needed to be hidden, and born into a life where he or she would never know anything but acceptance.

That had settled it. Ashlin fought off the urge for a few weeks more, but it soon became clear that 'someday' had become 'now.' Modo looked forward to it every bit as much as she did and started doing whatever he could to make sure their efforts were successful. They kept to their once a week schedule, though they now made sure that they made love in the early evening--a time when fertility was speculated to be at its highest--as well as adjusted things like their daily diet. Any little thing they thought would help ensure that their baby would be swiftly on his way.

They had already celebrated their first wedding anniversary by the time they officially started trying, and it didn't take long for word to get around to their family and friends. It wasn't exactly hard to figure out; they were both aglow with anticipation and already purchasing baby items. They started small--after all they weren't even pregnant yet--but before long they were window-shopping for cribs and playpens and nursery decorations. Ako was perfectly willing to share his tiny bedroom, or so he volunteered, but in the end they decided to make-over the room right next to his.

Modo had a feeling he and Ashlin knew, deep down, that they were getting a little ahead of themselves, but they were both young, hopeful and eager, and at the time redecorating and refurnishing the little room while they planned for their future addition seemed like the perfect way to wait. But after a while, that was what it ultimately became about; waiting.

Female rat fertility cycles ran a little differently than a mouse's and were harder to keep track of, but in the beginning they were both confident that their once a week routine would keep them covered. After a few unsuccessful months went by, they decided to change things a little and tried making love more frequently, and when another few months without any results drifted by, they tried the reverse and made love less. Modo hadn't thought it was possible, but when love-making was turned into a chore like that, a lot of the pleasure was taken out of it--to the point where they both went grudgingly into the bedroom when it was time to try again and were relieved when the attempt was over.

It didn't seem to make any difference what they did. Though they tried hard not to get discouraged, it was impossible for their spirits not to sink when month after month Ashlin took a pregnancy test only to have it come back negative, despite all their effort. They tried everything they could think of, but time just kept moving on, with no baby in sight. When Saber's first birthday rolled around, they finally started seeking help and advice from all the happy parents in their lives, but no one was really able to tell them anything they didn't already know--especially since none of them had actually planned on getting pregnant in the first place.

Still, everyone tried their best to help out. Did Modo keep away from tight underwear and jeans? Naturally. Did Ashlin stay on her back during intercourse? Always--and they'd read that putting a pillow under her pelvis was also supposed to help, so they made sure they never made love without one. They tried every method that reportedly aided in conception they could find, but nothing worked.

Finally, it was Modo who reluctantly voiced the thought that had been silently forming in both their heads by this point--that maybe one or both of them needed a little assistance that went beyond strict routines and supposedly fertility-boosting foods, like a full-blown fertility drug. Of course, that would require a medical exam to evaluate the state of their health...and while they were at it, Modo felt that they might as well be checked to make sure there wasn't something going on they didn't know about that might be putting a roadblock in their attempts.

It was an idea they had both tried to avoid thinking about so far, but the second the suggestion was out, the thought that there might be something wrong with one of them promptly took hold. Modo was quick to blame himself, but Ashlin just as quickly insisted that she had no doubt that he was perfectly healthy, while she also pointed out that there was plenty about her own halfbreed biology that she still didn't understand.

In the end they both agreed to get examined, but instead of going with him to the clinic that recently opened and would operate while the new hospital was being built, Ashlin decided to skip visiting the local medical experts and teleported to Malteria to get a thorough looking-over by Deichan-ma'am.

By then he'd already gotten results back saying that he was in top shape, which lifted his spirits a little, but Ashlin was worried about what her own exam would reveal and insisted on going alone, in case it took a long time. She was gone for a few hours, so while Modo waited for her to come home he spent some time brooding over at Conrad's. His bros had figured out that things weren't going very well, and while Modo moped over a giant mug of root beer, they tried to cheer him up a little. Well, Throttle did. Vinnie was aware that as a happy father of two beautiful kids he probably wasn't the best to be handing out encouragement and didn't have much to say...for once.

"You're still young," Throttle pointed out, as Modo stared gloomily into the mound of foam brimming inside his mug. "You two really don't need to rush this. Maybe you ought to step back and just enjoy the family you've already got for a little while, because after weeks of sleepless nights and 2 AM feedings, you'll probably miss how easy you have it right now. Having a baby changes your whole life."

Says the guy who's so uninterested in having a biological child he went and got himself fixed, Modo thought dryly.

As if he knew exactly what he was thinking, Throttle smirked and said, "I know, I'm one to talk, right? But you know, if it wasn't such a risk for us, I probably wouldn't have opted for such a permanent prevention method."

"Astrid turned out all right," Modo pointed out.

Throttle's smirk faded, and even though he couldn't see them through the dark lenses of the sunglasses he was wearing, Modo knew that his eyes had turned somber. "Sure, she turned out all right," said Throttle dully. "Bev was in agony for a year and Astrid is as breakable as a glass doll, but it could have been worse. It could have been a lot worse--and it could have turned out a lot worse for Tam and me."

Grunting, he gave his head a shake. "If anything had ended up happening to her...I don't think I could have lived with myself afterward."

He fell quiet, as did Modo. Vinnie had wandered away from their table and was back at the bar ordering more root beer. "I get what you're sayin'," sighed Modo. "And you're right; we shouldn't get so caught up with somethin' we'll have in the future that we forget all the good things we've got right now."

They really didn't need to rush. It would probably do them both a lot of good to take a break and relax for a change--and alleviating a little stress just might prove beneficial later on.

Modo downed the last of his root beer and stood. "I feel a little better now. Thanks, bro."

"Anytime."

After saying a quick goodbye, Modo hurried back home again, where he waited around for his petite wife to return. When Ashlin finally reappeared hours later, she was in tears.

It looked like she had been crying for a long time yet had tried to pull herself together before she walked in, but as Modo rushed to gather her in his arms while alarm filled him, she collapsed into sobs. Modo hadn't seen her come close to really, truly crying in almost two years, so to have her break down like this, trembling as she pressed her teary face to his chest...and the first words out of her mouth as she clung to him were, "I'm so sorry."

The anguish in her voice chilled him. Modo held her tighter and tried to calm her down, but it was minutes before her sobs subsided enough for her to say anything else.

"Dee ran every test she could," she told him, her teary face twisting in pain. "There isn't anything that can be done. I'm completely sterile."

Hearing those words made his heart drop inside him, but his mind instantly rebelled. That just couldn't be true. "But those guys have so many advanced medical techniques," he faltered, "isn't there some way--"

Ashlin shook her head as fresh tears filled her eyes. "There's nothing they can do," she said pitifully. "It's the way I am--the way anyone like me is. It's because..."

She stumbled over the words for a moment before trailing off, brow furrowed. Sniffling, she wiped her eyes; Modo ran an encouraging hand over her back. "Have you ever heard of an Earth mule?"

For a moment the seemingly out of the blue question puzzled him...but then his heart sank again. He knew exactly where this was going now. "Yes."

Ashlin sniffled again. "Well...I'm like that."

It was a thought that was enough to break his already sinking heart--but it made all their frustration over the last few months make perfect sense. It was a commonly-known biological fact that virtually all hybrids of any sort were born infertile. Trouble was that fact had never entered either of their minds simply because a cross between a rat and a mouse was so rare they were almost nonexistent. Modo strongly doubted there could have been more than a handful born over the last century or longer, and since they, like Ashlin at birth, would have been shunned by both sides of their parentage, those poor souls likely wound up in exile. And even if by some miracle they came across another halfbreed, word wasn't exactly going to get around that attempts to start a family were unsuccessful.

Modo only asked his distraught wife another few questions before lifting her in his arms and carrying her to bed, where he held her until she cried herself to sleep. Over the next few weeks, all their careful planning slowly but surely dissolved, until there wasn't a trace left. The baby decorations and furniture they had bought was quietly returned to the store. Clothes and toys that Ako couldn't use were handed over to one of their expectant neighbors or donated. Before long, their home looked like it did before they first decided it was time for their family to grow.

For the next month or so Ashlin rarely went in to work. She tried to be discreet about it, but she broke down a lot for a while, and when she wasn't crying quietly she was sitting with Ako cradled tightly in her arms--or sometimes she did both. Because the problem wasn't that being a threesome wasn't enough for her...it was the fact that _she_ was the reason why they always would be. It had been part of her wedding vows that she would give her husband children, and even though she didn't say so out loud, Modo knew that she felt like she'd failed him--and she was afraid that he was disappointed with her.

He was anything but. His mind had already moved on to other plans, and while he didn't want to say anything too soon, he saw no reason why they couldn't adopt another child or two in the future. And he thought it might be a good idea for Ashlin to get involved in something that would have her around plenty of children again. She'd spent years working at the orphanage and he knew she was happiest when she was in an environment where she could take care of others.

Still, he made sure not to say anything she might not be ready to hear just yet. While there was no denying that the news that he and his pretty little wife would never have a child together had devastated him, there was also no denying that Ashlin took that news far harder than he had. And it didn't take long for that news to get around, since clearing their home of all the baby supplies they'd stocked up was a pretty big clue that something was wrong. Thankfully, his bros waited politely for him to come to them and explain what was going on...and after exchanging disappointed looks, they never mentioned it again.

Modo wasn't surprised when his bros--and everyone else in their lives--started walking on eggshells around them both. The happy parents were particularly edgy, not knowing whether they should restrict the exposure the two of them had to their kids or if they should be asking them to babysit exclusively. Modo was pretty sure Ashlin was as unsure either way as he was...and then something happened neither of them would have ever expected.

It was late one evening a couple of months after Ashlin's examination, and Ako was already tucked in bed and the two of them were in the middle of turning the lights out for the night when there was a knock on the door. When you had a reinforced metal door with a sophisticated mechanical locking system and an electronic buzzer, it was pretty unusual for anyone to knock for anything. Modo could only guess that it was because it was late and the visitor didn't want to accidentally wake anyone; after exchanging a puzzled glance with his wife, he went to unlock and open the front door.

To his surprise, he found Carbine standing outside in the cool night air...and she had Saber in her arms. The little guy was sound asleep, and the former General flashed a quiet, uncertain smile as she adjusted her hold on him. "Mind if we come in?"

There was a nervousness in her eyes that said she wasn't sure if she was doing the right thing by coming here, but at the same time Modo recognized that spark of stubborn determination she always got when she'd made up her mind about something. Wondering just what was going on, Modo invited her inside, and Ashlin, though she looked as puzzled as he felt, asked if she could bring her anything.

Carbine shook her head. "No thanks. Listen, I know this is awkward, so I'll get right to the point. I heard about what's going on and I wanted to tell you how sorry I am."

A look of pain flickered in Ashlin's dark eyes; she dropped her head and mumbled something Modo didn't quite catch. "And I know this might sound a little insensitive," Carbine went on, "but...I'm glad I know about this now instead of finding out the hard way. Saber needs to know what to expect when he grows up."

Modo hadn't thought of that, but picturing all the little crossbreeds in their lives now made his heart ache. Would it be the same way for Vector and Joy someday? No Martian had ever bred with a human before, so those kinds of questions were a complete unknown. It was definitely better for these kids to be prepared for the possibility of total sterility when they were young, so they wouldn't have to deal with, as Carbine had just put it, finding out the hard way after they grew up.

Carbine was studying the two of them, and something in her dark eyes told Modo that she had come here to say a lot more than she was sorry that they couldn't start a family. Her gaze lowered to her son, still sleeping peacefully, as her face lined with uncertainty. "I feel so bad about this," she murmured.

"Don't," Ashlin told her, her voice thick.

Carbine shook her head, eyes still on her son. "It's just not right. You have one of the strongest maternal sides I've ever seen, and if it wasn't for you I wouldn't even have my baby."

After taking a quick breath, she looked up again. "Which is why Poison and I had a long talk about it, and...we decided that if anything ever happens to the two of us, we want you to raise Saber in our place."

For a moment Ashlin looked too stunned to speak. Modo experienced a similar reaction, but it wasn't long before the feeling of surprise faded and was replaced by a wave of intense gratitude. He knew from when Ashlin had recounted the events of Saber's birth to him, along with all the times he had seen her hold him, that she probably couldn't love him more if he was her own. Carbine still didn't look sure if she was doing the right thing...but that look faded when a tearful smile spread across Ashlin's face.

"Thank you."

"Of course, Modo would lend you a hand," the ex-General added wryly. "But even if nothing ever happens to us..."

"Which we'd never want," Ashlin hastily put in.

"I know. And we plan to stick around until we reach a ridiculously old age, but even if we do, we want you to come see Saber whenever you want."

Modo felt another wave of gratitude, while Ashlin's smile grew. "Really?"

"Absolutely," Carbine said firmly. "Anytime you feel like visiting, just drop on by. And I hope you won't mind," she went on with a grin, "but we plan to saddle you with him whenever we need a little alone time."

Like it was possible that would ever bother either of them. Ashlin's eyes were still a little moist, but she let out a soft laugh as she shook her head. "Good," Carbine told her. "Okay if I leave him with you tonight?"

Ashlin's eyes were shining with eagerness now. Modo's heart was warming with affection, and after Carbine passed her sleeping son to his wife, he gave the former General's shoulder a soft squeeze. "Thanks."

"No problem. You'll both watch over him whenever you can, right?"

Modo nodded solemnly. "Every way possible."

Ashlin would probably have echoed his feelings...but she was too busy cuddling Saber, kissing his downy black cheeks and petting his brief shock of gray hair. With a warm smile, Carbine ran a hand over her son's head before returning her attention to Ashlin. "There's one other thing I wanted to talk to you about, though I don't know if it's something you'd want right now. The hospital that's being built needs a big staff, and...well, there's an opening for a nurse in the maternity wing."

A shadow of doubt passed over Ashlin's face--but only for an instant. "I'd like that. I really would."

Looking pleased, Carbine brushed her fingers over Saber's cheek before taking a step toward the door. "See you in a few days, then?"

Ashlin nodded happily, and then, after hesitating for a second, she shifted Saber to the crook of her arm and reached out to hug his mother with her free arm. "Thank you so much," she whispered.

The older mouse smiled and rested a hand on her hair. "Anytime. And if you ever need anything, you let me know. Okay?"

Ashlin nodded again; Carbine gave her arm a squeeze before stepping back and turning to Modo, who expressed his own thanks before bidding her goodnight and seeing her out. When he returned to his wife, she was sitting in the plush chair in the corner with Saber still cradled in her arms, watching as the little guy went on sleeping. Modo stepped over to them quietly and knelt down, reaching over the arm of the chair to cup his wife's face. "You okay now?"

She flashed him a tired smile. "Yeah. I'm going to be disappointed about this for a long time yet, but...I can't stay down anymore. Not when I have so many great people in my life looking out for me."

Smiling in return, Modo leaned to press a kiss to her forehead, then coaxed her to her feet. And as the two of them went to bed, with sweet little Saber tucked snugly between them, he knew that this was exactly what they had both been needing. He felt peaceful for the first time in weeks, even though he wasn't sure what course they were going to take from here yet. And he knew that it didn't matter; they already had a wonderful family, and friends who would do anything for them. Even though things hadn't gone the way they planned, he knew that they already had everything they could ever want.


	11. The Part That Won't Ever Change

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On a relaxing afternoon, Modo reflects on the recent past. But some things are rapidly moving forward. Rated PG.

Seven years.

The thought made Modo sit back and gaze off into the distance in amazement. It had been seven whole years since that fateful vacation he, Throttle, and Rimfire had taken to the planet Malteria. They had only been there for a few short weeks, but by the time they came back to Mars, they each had found someone they could journey through life with, and both he and Throttle had adopted young sons. And Vinnie, who had stayed behind after their brief, unpleasant trip to Earth, met up with them later happily married to Charley-ma'am and doting on a son of his own.

Those weeks had reshaped each of their lives, and now here they were: relaxing in a quiet park on Mars, their surroundings so different from what they were a decade ago, you wouldn't think it was the same planet. The city around them had been built up considerably, with intersecting streets and tall buildings and new homes, and in the far distance he could hear the sound of a rail car humming by. There was plenty of grass and leafy shrubs growing around everything, and even a few small trees. Outside the city was more of the same, with more lush growth than ever cropping up around the pools of water, which in turn attracted more wildlife. Even here in the park, there were birds and other small creatures hopping from bush to branch, chittering happily.

The grass and plant life fenced the outer areas of the park, while the center part, where he and the others were sitting, was mostly sandy. There was plenty of playground equipment, and small fountains and benches, like the one he was currently relaxing on. He was sitting alone, while Vinnie and his wife were perched on a decorative boulder together. Throttle was sitting on a bench a few feet from his, with his arms casually draped across the back as he watched the playground. Beside him, his mate was cuddled up against his side and looked like her mind was someplace other than keeping an eye on the kids as they played.

That was another thing that was hard to believe; how big all their children were already. Michio was the oldest, and at almost seventeen, he wasn't really interested in hanging around the smaller kids. He was a good sport about joining them today and brought along a book to read, and he had been sitting by himself until a little while ago. A few of his friends from school had shown up, and with permission from his parents, he was off like a shot. Everyone he hung out with was as academically-minded as he was, so despite their age, they were probably running off to do something science related. They were the kind of kids who did school stuff even when they weren't in school and groaned whenever they were on break.

Modo's own son was particularly bright and interested in a lot of the same things Michio was. There was a small age gap between them, but they had always been close friends. Ako had wanted to come with them today, but he had complained about feeling too tired and ended up staying home. Ashlin was working at the hospital and said she'd go check on him later, after her shift was over. It was kind of lonely without them--especially when there was a happy couple cuddling both to his left and to his right.

He was just about to sigh to himself about it when he felt a tug on his pant leg. Looking down, Modo saw a pair of bright brandywine eyes blinking up at him shyly. Resting his cheek against his knee like he was tired (and bashful) Saber rubbed a hand over the pale gray hair on his antenna-less forehead. "Hi."

Before Modo could respond, or reach down to pick him up, another little figure scurried over and threw her short arms around the rat-cross with a giggle. Saber squirmed in embarrassment, so Modo hastily rescued him and sat him up on his shoulder. The little guy put his arms around his neck in relief.

On the ground, six-year-old Joy let out another giggle as she hopped up and down, arms outstretched. "Mine!"

Saber mumbled something and hid his face. Modo feigned innocence. "Yours? I don't got nothin'."

Instead of pouting, the tiny girl continued to bounce, making her ruffled, lace-covered skirt bounce with her. With her pretty pale fur, adorable pink-and-white dress, and shiny auburn hair pulled up into a short ponytail on top of her head, it didn't look like she could possibly get cuter. And yet she managed it, pushing down the charm button until her dazzling little smile made her green eyes twinkle. "Mine," she repeated. "We gonna get married."

Saber quickly shook his head. "Nuh-uh."

Completely undaunted, the little mouse turned and scurried to a more powerful authority, sandals slapping. "Daddy, tell Saber he has to marry me."

"Saber, quit being stubborn and marry my little girl," Vinnie said, without looking up.

Saber shook his head again. "Don't wanna," he said, with a five-year-old's matter-of-factness.

"Aww, come on. It'll make her happy."

Joy nodded vigorously. Her mother rolled her eyes and swatted her husband. Clearly bored with his sister, Vector suddenly hopped up from where he'd been playing at his parents' feet and ran by. "C'mon, Asteroid, let's go hunt for bugs."

Charley-ma'am rolled her eyes again. "That's As- _trid_."

It didn't matter how many times they corrected him; he had been saying it wrong since the day she was born. Whether it was on purpose or not, no one was really sure.

Even though it had been happening since she could walk, seeing the larger, stronger child grab Astrid's fragile little hand and tug her after him always made everyone tense up. Vector was nine already and insisted that he understood how delicate she was, but even though nothing ever happened when they were together that was any worse than what happened when they weren't, he still ended up leaving speckles of bruises on her hands and arms as he pulled her along--like anyone was at risk of doing if they squeezed her a little too hard.

Astrid never complained. Beyond her immediate family, there wasn't anyone in her life who would dare touch her, or even go near her. The only girl who felt comfortable enough to get close to her was Joy, and while the two would play dolls and other games together, Joy rarely touched her except when the two brushed and braided each other's hair, like most little girls were prone to do. The only one bold enough to grab her hand and engage in direct activity with her was Vector, and whenever his short attention span shifted to her, her silver eyes would light up. A few bumps and bruises seemed like a price she was perfectly willing to pay in exchange for a little direct contact with another child.

"Don't run too far," Charley called, as her rambunctious son tugged the twig-thin little girl down a grassy hill. The last Modo saw of them was Astrid's long teal hair billowing behind her, and after they disappeared from sight he heard a peal of her high-pitched laughter. Briefly, the tips of his antennas hummed as they picked up her youthful happiness.

Joy sensed the same thing and quickly grew jealous of the fun they were having without her and ran after them. As soon as she was gone, Saber finally relaxed and climbed down from Modo's shoulder. While he was making himself comfortable on his lap, Charley-ma'am suddenly asked, "Is your mother or Rimfire joining us later?"

On the bench to Modo's left, Tamerin-ma'am shook her head, which was resting on Throttle's shoulder. "Not today," she said. "Probably not tomorrow, either. That's okay, I love watching my baby sister."

She let out a chuckle, like she had just thought of something, and when she lifted her head briefly she and Throttle shared a knowing glance, their grins matching. Something passed between their eyes for a second, and then the tan mouse ran his hand over her hair as she rested her head on his shoulder again.

They communicated like that a lot these days--no words, just looks. They had reached a point in their mental connection where they could get what was on their mind across without ever talking at all, which, as Modo had come to understand, was usually a point two Imeerans didn't reach until they had been together for decades. But the two of them had leapfrogged ahead thanks to the blood transfusion from years ago, and they had learned since then that even though Throttle couldn't have children anymore, it didn't mean that enough (Modo flushed at the thought) bodily fluid didn't still exchange between them when they were intimate to deepen their physical bond, though it was now to a much slower, lesser extent. And the mental bond they shared grew stronger just by the two of them being together the way they were that very minute.

The strength of their relatively young bond was exactly why her mother left Astrid with them so much these days. She and Rimfire's relationship was still in its beginning stages when Bevra-ma'am became pregnant, and due to all the complications that followed, it was a long time before they started enjoying each other again. As a result, their bond was actually less than what it would ordinarily be by now--so Bevra-ma'am had decided it was high time they gave it a little boost. It was an urge partly fueled by envy, or so Tamerin-ma'am wryly explained to them a minute or so later.

"Careful," Modo warned, blushing again. "The kids can hear you, y'know."

Saber wasn't paying attention and was climbing down from his lap to go play with the others, but still...

"I _am_ being careful," Tamerin-ma'am said mildly. "And so is my mother--or at least Rimfire is. She told me the other day that he's so scared of getting her pregnant again, he won't..."

She paused and glanced at the kids, who had come back from bug-hunting and were running over to the nearby playground. And since he didn't have to worry about being delicate with him, Vector had tackled Saber and was now wrestling with him in the sand. Joy was watching them from a safe distance--she didn't like getting her dress dirty--with a look on her face that clearly read ' _boys_.' Modo snickered to himself.

"At first they behaved for three weeks before she's scheduled to be fertile, but now he insists that they behave for a whole four weeks in advance," said Tamerin-ma'am. "Just to be safe. So that means three months of playtime and one month off."

"One whole month?" asked Throttle, sounding sympathetic. "That's rough. Has he thought about doing what I did?"

His mate snickered and shook her head. "I asked him the same thing and he practically went white. Not every male is comfortable with the thought of someone taking scissors to their favorite body part."

Throttle was shaking his head in amazement. "A whole month. Kid's got amazing willpower."

"They play," Tamerin-ma'am said slyly, keeping her tone low and casual as she watched the quartet on the playground. "How did my mother put it...? They play with the dollhouse, but they don't go into the garage."

"Ah. Does he get to go under the roof?"

"I've no doubt he does."

Throttle grinned and pulled her playfully into his lap. "Do I get to go under your roof later?"

"Only if you take a peek under my hood."

"Naturally."

"Will you two quit it?" Modo asked wearily, as the two proceeded to chuckle and share brief but clearly desire-filled kisses.

"Ah, relax," Tamerin-ma'am told him, as she snugged her arms around her mate's neck and cuddled her head on his chest. "The kids aren't listening. And even if they were, they wouldn't know what we're talking about."

" _I_ know what you're talkin' about," the gray mouse muttered.

His bro and his snow-skinned mate chuckled again, but they went back to exchanging silent looks after that.

No one needed to ask why Modo was watching Saber, or why his parents were nowhere around today. When he started to get a little older, Modo had worried that he might not want to be left at what had become his home away from home so much, but as time went on, it became evident that even though the little guy liked his home city, he had more friends in this one.

There was never any question of him being accepted by underdweller rats, thanks in part to the powerful influence his parents and those close to them had, but while adults felt perfectly comfortable with Saber, Ashlin, and even Carbine, the youngest ones were another story. The ones Saber's age had never seen a mouse up close before, and even though their parents assured them that he was half rat and encouraged them to play, they were still too shy. Modo hoped that would change someday, especially once the little guy was old enough to start school, but for now, he was happiest when his parents left him in mouse territory.

That happiness was mostly thanks to Vector, who had announced that the sable crossbreed was his 'bestest bud' when Saber was still in diapers and had been dragging him off to get into mischief practically from the second Saber learned how to walk. And no one ever had to wonder what vocal little Joy thought of him.

And speaking of vocal: all of a sudden Modo's ears twitched. Over at the entrance of the park it sounded like a bike engine was revving by itself--a bike engine he would recognize in his sleep. Lil' Hoss only made that much noise when she was trying to get his attention.

"'Scuse me," said Modo, as he quickly got up from the bench and hurried down the park path. When he reached the spot where he and his bros had parked, his beloved bike quieted as he drew near, though she continued to make an agitated purring sound. There was a green light blinking on her dashboard, indicating that someone was trying to contact him. Knowing only one person his bike would deem important enough to interrupt his day for, Modo quickly leaned over and pushed the comlink button. "Ash? That you, darlin'?"

"Yes," came his wife's voice. She sounded tired...and worried. "I just got back to check on Ako, and..."

She paused for a few seconds. Modo felt a knot of nervousness start to form in his stomach. "And...?"

"Can you come home, please?" asked Ashlin quietly.

He was already getting on Lil' Hoss. "I'll be there in a minute," he promised, before putting his helmet on and tearing out of the park.

When he pulled up outside the home he shared with his family, his wife was waiting for him outside. She stood quietly by the front door, arms wrapped pensively around herself. In the years since they first got married, she had barely changed at all, other than her looks had softened a little as they matured and grew even prettier. Under different circumstances, he would have greeted her more warmly, but in his nerves he only hugged her briefly before asking what was going on.

Ashlin wordlessly took his hand and led him inside. Deep down, he was already starting to suspect what might be wrong...and his suspicion was proven right when she brought him into Ako's room, where she stopped and wrapped her arms around herself again. "He's been like this ever since I got home," she faltered.

Modo quickly knelt down beside his son's small bed. Ever since they brought him to Mars with them, both he and Ashlin had been quietly wondering if something like this was going to happen again, one day. With the events of the previous time they went through this replaying in his mind, he tried to keep calm as he rested a hand on Ako's form where it was curled up tightly in the middle of his plump bed cushion, even after he felt that his son was stiff and cool.

There was a strong urge to panic, but he kept it down as he carefully scooped his son's seemingly lifeless body up and cradled it in his hands. He hadn't forgotten the last time--but neither had Ashlin, and even though they both knew that Ako was most likely entering another stage of metamorphic growth and would wake up in a few days, the painful memories of the time they believed the worst had happened were still strong in her mind. As she pushed her sleeve back and lifted her wrist communicator, he saw her hands shake.

Thanks to advancements made in the transporter technology in recent years, the signal didn't have to be transmitted strictly to outdoor locations anymore, so instead of stepping outside in order to be transported to the toxic surface of Malteria, they contacted the transport operator and were soon being taken from their home and smoothly deposited in a chamber near the ocean floor, just outside the underwater city.

Like many Imeeran structures the chamber was transparent, and after stepping down from the transporter platform they passed through a clear tube that connected to the main part of the city, oblivious to the lovely underwater spectacle that surrounded them as they hurried on to the hospital. Ashlin had also sent a message ahead that they were coming, and when they arrived a doctor and a team of nurses was waiting for them at the entrance.

No time was wasted in getting Ako's motionless little form to a room and hooked up to a monitor. After a few short minutes of scans, it was reported with relief that he was showing the same weak, unusual readings he did the last time he had slipped into this state.

Modo let out a shaky breath of relief, and Ashlin put her arms around him and rested her head on his middle with a sound that was suspiciously close to a sob. Everything would be all right. Their son was just growing again. When he was done, he would probably look different than he did now, but it didn't matter. He would still be their son.

After running a few more tests, one of the nurses told him that they were going to make him more comfortable and quarantine him off--for his own safety, in case he was vulnerable to airborne impurities while he was like this. Understanding, Modo said a silent goodbye, running his hand over Ako's soft ears and down his fox-like back. Ashlin kissed just above his tiny black nose before putting her arms around her husband again. Modo hooked his arm tightly around her shoulders as they left the room together.

They waited around for a little while, but since there was no way of knowing just how long this was going to take, it wasn't realistic for them to stay in the hospital until Ako woke up again. So, after spending a few hours in the city, they contacted and made arrangements to stay with Jayce and his family for now. His petite, devoted doctor of a mate would have probably taken care of them at the hospital herself today, but she was taking it easy at home right now on account of she was expecting her second child.

The pink-skinned Imeeran greeted them at the door with a warm smile, and after she and Ashlin exchanged hugs, the doctor told them to make themselves at home. The sizable apartment she shared with her mate and son reflected each of their personalities, decorated in shades of peach, black, and red, and littered with toys and games.

That evening they dined with the happy family, and later they contacted the others back home to let them know what was going on (Tamerin-ma'am promised to watch Saber for them until his mother came to pick him up) before heading off to bed. They went to the hospital the next morning, but there was nothing new to report and the doctors said they would contact them as soon as there was any change. They understood that both parents needed to be reassured that their child was all right during this uncertain time, though, and let them wander in to take a peek at him whenever they felt the urge to.

They did little else for the next few days, and when she didn't wander to the hospital with her husband, Ashlin hovered around the apartment and kept close to young Dirk. He had grown into a bright, energetic little boy, who was firmly convinced that he would soon have a little brother to play with even though his parents had confirmed that his mother was carrying a girl.

Despite being eleven-and-a-half months pregnant and easily tired, Deichan-ma'am went over to the hospital one day to check on Ako herself. It had been over a week already and there hadn't been any news, and the last time Modo went in the nurses told him they were in the middle of running some kind of special scan and couldn't be disturbed.

Deichan-ma'am went out quietly without mentioning to anyone that she was leaving, and when she came back a little while later, Modo could tell as soon as she stepped through the apartment door that something was wrong. Ashlin was in the family room playing a game with Dirk, so she was spared the look of alarm that spread over his face as he hurried over to the kindly doctor and took her aside. "What happened?" he asked in a low, anxious voice.

The pink-skinned Imeeran hesitated, rubbing a hand over her rounded middle. "Nothing out of the ordinary, so far as we can tell," she responded softly. "The readings are still the same. We're expecting him to change, and...that's exactly what he is doing."

"And that's all?" Modo asked doubtfully.

The doctor hesitated again. "The last time, we didn't see his physical changes happening because of the way he was rolled up in a ball, which was how he always looked. No one realized what was really going on until he sat up and opened his eyes. But this time...he's changing in a way where it's impossible not to notice. Judging from the extent of the changes so far and how the transformation seems to have only just begun, we believe this is the final stage of his species growth. He will be an adolescent after this point and then only go through minor physical growth like he has over the last few years before reaching adulthood."

"I get it," said Modo. "But why didn't they let me see him yesterday?"

He had had a feeling at the time that the scan excuse had been exactly that--an excuse.

Deichan-ma'am glanced down at her toes. "The new changes he's undergoing are rather...jarring, when you first see them," she told him in a quiet voice. "The team watching over him thought it best to wait until his new form has settled into something a little less startling before allowing you and Ashlin to go in and see him. They worry you might become upset."

"Upset?" Modo echoed, his apprehension abruptly turning to irritation. "He's my son. I don't care what he looks like. I want to see him."

The angelic doctor still looked doubtful, but there was no place in her gentle heart to keep an anxious parent away from their child. She sent a message to the hospital that he be allowed to come see Ako whenever he wanted. Modo didn't waste a second heading over there. He would have taken Ashlin with him, but when he peeked in the family room, he saw that she had dozed off on a plush rug amid a pile of Dirk's toys.

He decided to let her sleep for now and went on ahead to confirm that everything was fine, mid-transformation or not, then come back with her later. When he got there, a nurse balked at the door to Ako's room, advising him that his young son didn't look like a cute cross between a cat and a fox anymore. He'd already left that form behind, but was still transitioning to the next one, and at this point it was anyone's guess just what that form would end up being.

And it was unusual, the nurse suddenly pointed out, how his species' metamorphosis worked, since in both this and the previous instance Ako had showed signs of fatigue and decreased appetite. Generally when a body was going to go through a massive change, it needed to consume a large amount of calories before building a cocoon for itself, which was another thing Ako didn't do.

Modo saw through her polite but blatant attempt to stall him and just as politely but firmly nudged his way by.

The inside of the small hospital room was quiet and dimly lit. Instead of a bed, his son had been set up on what looked like a large, round plastic basin, flat on the bottom and with a low rim. It looked needlessly large, since not counting his tail Ako measured less than two feet long, but it looked like the doctors were unsure of just how big he was going to get before he was done growing and wanted to make sure he had enough space to accommodate him.

The basin was set on a platform with small monitors, graphs, and other screens set in its metal sides, and every few seconds, a scanning laser was visible through the clear bottom of the basin, running a thin red line across its length like a scanner at a checkout counter. Modo understood; the transparency of his temporary bed allowed Ako to be scanned and monitored frequently without having to actually attach wires to him, which could end up in the way of his bodily changes right now.

Encircling the basin and platform was a floor-to-ceiling screen, almost like a shower curtain. There had been one around the little bed Ako was put in when he was first brought here, to keep him protected, as the nurse had explained. The screen was clear, so it didn't block Modo's view as he stepped closer. From the doorway, nothing appeared to be out of place, and in the dimness he thought for a second that his little son was curled up peacefully, just like he always did when he was taking a nap. But then he got a little closer.

In the bottom of the basin, he saw brown fur and hints of green markings, and the coil of Ako's bushy tail, but that was the extent of what he was able to recognize. Ako's little body had gone from cat-like to bulbous and misshapen. There were no distinguishable limbs or any sign of a head. Everything seemed to be in a jumble; parts of what might be an arm or a leg starting to poke out, the hint of fingers and toes, what might have been a mouth edged with half-grown teeth. There was no rhyme or reason to any of it, like something that had been put together all wrong--something that shouldn't have been put together at all, at least not in that way. Modo suddenly had flashes of memory of medical programs and other things he shouldn't have watched late at night when he couldn't sleep. Visions of grotesque tumors and other growths extracted from a person's body filled his mind.

These thoughts and notions were shoved back where they belonged. That wasn't what was going on with his son and it was rude to make that comparison. What was happening right now didn't matter, and when it was over and Ako woke up, Modo would love him just as much as ever. Whatever he went through in the meantime was normal, even if he didn't understand it.

Still, the advisement that Ako's appearance might be startling at first wasn't unfounded, and when he went back to his wife later he made sure to explain to her that they weren't exaggerating. She came with him to the hospital a little while later, and while she didn't say anything at the time, he could tell that the shapeless mass their child had become left her shaken.

"I don't want to sound like a wimp," she said in a faint voice when they got back to the apartment, "but I don't think I can handle going back right now. I don't want to remember my little boy like that."

Modo understood how she felt, and after giving her a loving hug he promised he would keep her up to date on their son's changes. The hospital promised to do the same and frequently sent them reports, but while the readings they were getting seemed to suggest that everything was progressing normally, they were still unsure of just how much longer this was going to take.

The anxious father went back to the hospital the next day just the same, although when he saw from a distance that things hadn't progressed all that much from yesterday, he decided not to take a closer look. Instead, he silently reminded himself that no matter how things looked now, when it was all over his little boy would be just as huggable as he had always been. Nothing would change who he was on the inside.

The wait for the day when he could scoop his son up in his arms and take him home lasted for weeks. Doctor Deichan's estimation that this was Ako's final transformation appeared to be correct; the last time had only taken a few days, given that the new limbs he was growing were small and his body itself didn't enlarge all that much. This time he seemed to be shedding his old form completely, though after a while it was hard to tell what was going on just by looking at him. For a number of days those hap-hazard limbs of his kept growing longer and longer, but then one morning Modo stopped in to find Ako had shifted position, curling up on his side (or what was believed to be his side) with his tail, which was also growing, fanned out over him. The tail's hairs were longer than ever, and a little stringy and sticky right now. They clung to the growing body and effectively hid it from view.

It didn't block the near-constant scan, and Modo didn't need to see the changes themselves to figure out that his son had become a lot heavier. He looked longer, and the soft, flexible plastic of the basin was starting to bow a little.

When he went back to Jayce and Deichan-ma'am's apartment later that same day, he was surprised to learn that he had just narrowly missed witnessing the birth of the General's second child. The tired but blissfully happy mama was lying on the black futon-like sofa in the family room, with her loving mate hovering over her and their newborn daughter. Ashlin was kneeling beside the sofa and was busy putting medical supplies away. She had obviously had a hand in the birth.

"Can I come in now?" called Dirk from his bedroom.

"Yes," said his father, without taking his eyes off his new baby girl.

The little boy scurried into the room and peered closely at the newest addition to their family, cradled closely in his mother's arms. "Cute, but...it's a girl."

"Told you," said his mother with a sleepy smile.

"I'll deal with it, but can you make sure I get a little brother next time?"

"Don't give your father any ideas."

After a brief laughter-filled discussion, the little angel was named Chloe. She had soft white hair, cotton candy pink skin, bright aquamarine eyes, and her mother's delicate features. It was obvious before she was an hour old that her father was mad-crazy in love.

The next few days centered around caring for the sweet newborn, which Modo had to admit triggered feelings of parental envy. And then, at last, a message came from the hospital requesting that he and Ashlin come as soon as they could. They didn't need to be asked twice.

When they arrived, a nurse greeted them before taking them to a different wing from the one Ako's observation room was in. "He's awake," the nurse reported, sounding pleased. "He sat up early this morning, bright and cheerful as anything."

Modo was so relieved, for a moment he had to stop and collect himself. Ashlin let out a quiet breath and squeezed his arm tightly.

"We gave him a thorough checkup right away," the nurse went on, "and he looks completely healthy. A little confused, but that's understandable."

Modo gave a quiet nod, knowing what she meant. Since no one in Ako's life knew anything about his native species, his periods of growth were as much guesswork for him as they were for the rest of them. There was a good deal of instinct guiding him, especially when he was about to enter another stage of growth, but there was only so far instinct could carry him. There was a lot Ako didn't know about himself.

Like how much he was going to change by the time he was done growing--which was probably going to end up being more of a surprise to him than anyone else. Modo's heart went out to the little guy and made him more anxious than ever to take him home.

When they reached the room he had been moved to, the nurse suddenly paused. "Don't start that again," Modo warned, as she gave him a look like she was debating how--and how much--she should prepare him. "I just want to see my little boy."

"Well," the nurse said slowly, tapping her fingers together nervously, "that's just the thing. When we were scanning him after he woke up we, um, sort of discovered that he's not really a little boy."

Modo stared blankly for a long minute. "What are you saying?" he blurted. "He's really my little _girl_?"

If that was true...he was sure going to feel stupid about the last seven years he'd spent believing otherwise.

"Not quite," the nurse said quickly. "Technically, he isn't either one. Or even a 'he,' when it comes down to it. When we first examined him after he came here when he was a baby, we were unclear of his gender from the start, since his body has no sign of either internal or external genitalia."

"I think I remember that," Ashlin put in. Her brow was furrowed in puzzlement. "Someone ran a hormone test and said the levels indicated that he was a male."

"And when we examined him after his first change, we came to the conclusion that reproductive organs were something that would develop later, once his body was old enough to actually put them to use."

"But he still doesn't have any?" asked his very confused father.

The nurse hesitated, like she wasn't sure how to answer. "Yes and no. He has an internal system that has become something none of us here are familiar with. But the handful of tests we've run clearly indicate that this system is neither male or female. Whatever species Ako comes from, they reproduce completely asexually."

Modo stared again. "A...?"

"It means that each member of his race is capable of having a child on their own, without ever needing a partner or engaging in intercourse."

"I know what it means," he muttered.

"It also means," the nurse concluded, "that since his race can reproduce solo, there isn't any need for different genders."

Modo was quiet as he tried to process all this. "Maybe so," he said, "but I'm kind of used to calling him my little boy."

"So is Ako. When we talked to him about this, the first thing he asked was whether or not everyone was still going to call him a 'he.'"

"Sure sounds nicer than 'it,'" muttered Ashlin.

"Wait--you told him about this?" demanded Modo.

The nurse looked uneasy under the glare he was giving her. "We thought it was only right to let our patient know what was going on. He's old enough to understand that the way he is is normal for his kind and isn't bothered by it. But at the same time, he's also old enough to realize that since he's living on a planet with two genders, it might be viewed as a little unusual that he has none."

Modo had heard enough. He needed to hold his precious child and take him home, where he would tell him that he was perfect just the way he was. With Ashlin close behind him, he hurried toward the door behind the nurse. It swished open quietly as he neared.

On the other side was a regular hospital room, where healthy patients were examined before being sent home. Ako was sitting on one of the exam tables--though Modo had to admit, he needed to stop for a second and look to make sure it really _was_ Ako.

He still had brown fur and a long, bushy tail, but that was about all that was still similar to his previous form. Instead of a fox-like body with feline features, he now looked mostly humanoid. Arms and legs and an erect torso. Instead of small paws, he had slim feet colored a pale tan, with long toes. His once paw-like hands were just plain hands, the digits long and slim. Like his feet, they were a pale tan, but they didn't look like they bore any fur.

The most striking difference was his face. Instead of being covered in brown fur, with round cheeks, a cat-like muzzle and a tiny black nose, his features now resembled a race like Charley-ma'am's, or an Imeeran. Like his hands and feet, the pale tan skin of his face now showed, showing off his high forehead, slim nose, small mouth, and pointed chin. Despite this new face, there was still a distinctly animal-like look about him.

From the top of his high forehead, a new mane of dark green hair grew straight back. Instead of being on top of his head, his ears had moved down to the sides, about even with his eyes. They were still brown-furred and tipped with green, the fur on the ends curling slightly. The rest of him from the neck down was covered in brown fur, and it looked a little thicker than before. Ako had never been interested in wearing clothes with his previous body, and even though he could easily find something that fit now, Modo had a feeling he'd still like to remain natural.

Flowing from behind him and hanging over the side of the exam table he was perched on was a much longer tail than he had before, almost as long as his new legs. It was streaked with dark green and shifted in the air currents Ako was making as he kicked his long legs. He was sitting on the edge of the table with his head down, fingers curled around the edge, but even though he wasn't standing Modo gauged that he was about four feet tall.

He looked a little tired, and expectant, and when Modo took a quiet step closer, his little head lifted eagerly. His father was greeted by a sight that hadn't changed in the least; his large, bright blue eyes. They lit up as Ako hopped down and ran to him; Modo automatically scooped him up and hugged him close.

"You feelin' okay?" Modo asked hesitantly, as his son hugged him tightly around his neck with his new arms.

"Hungry," was Ako's frank response. His voice had deepened only slightly.

Modo chuckled and patted his fuzzy shoulder. "You've been through a lot. C'mon; let's get you home."

Ako nodded eagerly, and Ashlin came over and put her arms around them both. Ako gave her a questioning look. "I'm still your little boy," he asked tentatively. "Right?"

His mother smiled gently and ran her hand over his hair. "Of course. If that's what you're comfortable being."

"I'm kinda used to it," the ten-year-old said. "Even if I'm...not."

"There's one thing that's not ever gonna change, no matter how much you do," Modo told him firmly. "And that's how much I love you."

_~Fin~_


End file.
